


I Never Needed Anything More

by galaxyofstarks



Series: I Never Needed Anything More [1]
Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Lilly Kane Lives, Summer Love, summer romance au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 50,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27276034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyofstarks/pseuds/galaxyofstarks
Summary: After her horrendous junior year of high school in Neptune, Veronica cannot wait to get away to a beachside town on the other side of the country for the summer with her dad. But maybe escaping her hometown properly means getting tangled in some new feelings she'd rather not have to unravel.Basically an AU where LoVe meet one summer far from everything and everybody else.
Relationships: Logan Echolls & Veronica Mars, Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Series: I Never Needed Anything More [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093382
Comments: 227
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've spent the past months listening to Taylor Swift's Folklore album on repeat, and the song August really inspired me, and created this idea in my head to turn it into a LoVe fanfiction. I didn't follow the entire song closely, but listening to it should give you an idea of the mood I was going for. The title of the fic itself and of all the chapters are lyrics of the song, so are owned by Taylor Swift, not me.
> 
> This AU follows basically none of the canon events. You'll discover along the fic how much I've chosen to keep (the relationships between characters, mostly), and I hope it will be an enjoyable little universe :)
> 
> It is probably weird to be posting a summer fic in November, but I lost track of seasons in quarantine 6 months ago, so in my heart it's still summer. This fic is pretty much all finished, I'm only still finishing up the editing of the last few chapters, meaning my posting schedule should be regular. The plan currently is to update every Monday, Wednesday and Friday until the entire fic is posted.

**Chapter 1**

**_Salt air, and the rust on your door_ **

**_I never needed anything more_ **

Veronica’s family had spent every summer at Clatham Cove for as long as she remembered. Her grandmother Reynolds had been a proud resident of the small coastal town, and every summer, Veronica and her parents would drive all the way from Neptune, California, to her grandmother’s Maine hometown and stay in the village until the start of the school year approached. When she had passed when Veronica was 9 years old, Madeline Reynolds had left her daughter Lianne her cottage, and so the little family of three had carried on the tradition after the original owner’s departure from their world.

This time, Veronica and her father Keith had driven the very long trip in her clunky LeBaron. For the first time, it had been just the two of them (and Backup, their pitbull), and even if it was strange to be making the long trip without Lianne, they had decided to go for it. A little bit of tradition could be what they needed to bring a semblance of normalcy in their new lives, and Veronica was desperate to get away from Neptune after the year she’d had there. Breathing the salt air relieved her of the stifling feeling she’d had weighing on her more and more in the days leading up to their trip, invigorating her with the simplicity of life at Clatham Cove as she’d always known it. Sure, Clatham Cove always meant being there with her mom and dad, and this time one of them was missing, but the summers in Maine had always been much more than that. Especially in the last years, Veronica spent a lot of her time outdoors and alone, exploring, or just letting her thoughts wander. Now that she was 17, she knew her dad would let her have her freedom. Her mother had always been the more worried of the pair, which was ironic given that Keith and Veronica should have been worried about _her_ instead. In the end, it had almost been a relief when Lianne had checked out early of rehab and set off on her own without so much as a sign of life to her husband and daughter.

Her mother’s swift exit from her life had just been the first of a series of events that had made life in Neptune hell, and Veronica was already dreading having to go back at the end of August. She had nearly 14 weeks in Clatham Cove and she fully intended to enjoy every single day of peace and quiet the small town offered her.

She parked her car in the driveway and took the groceries from the trunk, carrying everything precariously to the cottage.

“Daddy, I’m here!” she called, dropping the bags on the kitchen counter.

It had been a struggle to get Keith to agree to take the LeBaron for the drive instead of his own car, but after pointing out that she got around a lot more than he did during the summer, promising to run all the errands that were at more than a 15 minute walk away herself and a lot of “please”s, she had convinced him. So there she was, filling the fridge and cupboards for the first time, the biggest grocery run of the summer. He was upstairs, opening windows to let fresh air inside, making the beds, in short, making the cottage welcoming to inhabitants again.

“I even got those disgusting olives you like,” she continued. They were somehow marinated with lobster mush, and Veronica found them revolting.

“Hey, Veronica, was your cupboard full of termites last year already?”

“What? No!”

She hurried up the stairs to go see what he was talking about.

“Eww…” she declared upon seeing that the cupboard of the room that had always been hers was indeed half destroyed because of the termites that had evidently made a home of it while they were gone.

“You can put your clothes in your grandmother’s closet,” Keith suggested, and Veronica nodded.

None of them had dared sleep in what had been her grandmother’s room, they weren’t sure why, but they didn’t need it, anyway. It looked like this year she’d be coming in more frequently.

After a few hours of rearranging and cleaning out the house, Veronica declared they had done enough for the day, and while her father took a nap, she set out for a walk to the centre of the village. It was always good to see which of the beachside town residents had already arrived, if there were any new faces, and to check up on all the people she hadn’t seen since the previous year. Most of the conversation going on was pure gossip, so Veronica tended to stay away from people in general, but there were still a few people she appreciated. The town’s year-long residents were mostly elderly and retired, like her grandmother Reynolds had been, and the summer tenants of the cottages and beach houses were usually middle-aged childless couples. Growing up, she rarely had anyone her age in Clatham Cove, and it suited her just fine. Children were devious and obnoxious and teenagers, even more so. It was easier to just tell the neighbour that yes, school was still going well, to be rewarded with a piece of saltwater taffy, and be on her way. It was a simple, straightforward relationship. It was easy. Veronica strived on easy. That was what vacations were for, after all.

From the barber, who had been a friend of “dear Madeline” (Veronica suspected there had been some kind of romantic entanglement there, but didn’t really want to know about her grandmother’s sex life), she learned that this year’s occupants of the Davis House would be arriving in the next few days. From the florist, who had played bridge with “sneaky Maddy”, she learned that apparently, at least one of them was famous. And from the waitress at the café, who had known her grandmother Reynolds only as the lady who had more cream than coffee in her coffee, she learned that apparently the upcoming occupants were first-timers in Clatham Cove. She didn’t particularly care about whoever lived in the Davis House, because as a general rule, whoever rented what was by far the largest house in town didn’t interact much with the rest of them. They were often haughty, or so caught up in their own business up there on the cliff that no one ever saw them, only their maids and other personnel coming downtown to run the errands. Why everyone was so fascinated with whoever stayed up there that year, Veronica didn’t know. But then again, she didn’t quite understand the fascination with word of mouth and gossip – she was a nosy person, much more than some of the townspeople, but she liked gathering the hard facts. Only that was truly interesting. Why settle for the rumour that this year’s lady killed her first husband when you could find out exactly how sordid her divorce had been through some careful research?

All in all, the rumours relayed to her on her first day back in Clatham Cove seemed to be true, Veronica evaluated from her vantage point down on the beach. She was walking Backup when the parade of cars parking around the Davis House had started. She had counted three of them staying – including a particularly hideous bright yellow car – and wondered if they had driven there each alone in their car. Not that being alone didn’t have its very numerous qualities, but it seemed like an odd way to start off a family vacation. Of course, for all she knew, it wasn’t a family at all. And maybe they all hated each other. The other vehicles had come and gone, delivering boxes and some even leaving furniture. No wonder the inhabitants always stayed indoors, if they had to fill the entire house with the furniture they brought with them.

The only person she had seen that wasn’t busy with unloading anything was a stylish middle-aged woman wearing huge sunglasses. She was probably the famous person the florist had mentioned.

“You come here often?” she heard behind her.

She turned around to see a boy about her age looking at her from a few feet away.

“Here in Clatham Cove or here, at this particular spot?” she asked, pointing at her feet.

He grinned.

“I don’t know, which answer is the most interesting?”

“This particular spot,” she said immediately. “It is actually the first time I have ever set my foot there. Every other time I’ve been on this beach, there was something holding me back, but today…” she clutched her fist in front of her and made a brave face. “Today was the day,” she finished dramatically.

The boy laughed.

“Well, it was nice talking to you,” Veronica said, starting to walk away because she honestly couldn’t have cared less about social interactions.

“Wait, hold up!” the boy called after her, following her.

She turned around to stare him down. He was much taller than her, had one of those ridiculous shell necklaces surfers wore back in California, and had a general air of a typical teenage boy like the ones that filled her days in Neptune. Hard pass.

“Why do you want to talk to me?” she asked, more disdainful than questioning.

“You seem nice, I don’t know.”

“You should get your eyes checked.”

She started walking again, but that only seemed to intrigue him further. He caught up and started walking backwards in front of her.

“I don’t have any friends yet,” he supplied.

“Neither do I, and yet I was having the time of my life until you showed up.”

“Do you hate everyone so much or is that a me thing?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Now will you let me go?”

He slowed down and let her pass behind him. Almost as an afterthought, he called out after her.

“I’m Logan!”

“Good for you!”

“Will you just –”

“No.”

She had reached the top of the upward hill back to grass at the edge of the beach and when she turned to follow the road back to her cottage, she saw he was still looking at her from the beach. She shook her head. Why did that guy want to make friends so badly?

The next day, she was sitting in one of the fields with yellowed high grass on the edge of town, just lost in her thoughts like she often was, when the boy – Logan – made another apparition.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he started.

“Oh my god,” Veronica exclaimed, rolling not only her eyes but her entire head to give him an exasperated glare. “You again.”

“Okay, I take it the wrong foot was intentional.”

“What gave it away,” she said drily, not even bothering to turn the sentence into a question.

“The tone, the not-meeting-my-eye, the stomping off,” he started enumerating, and she felt the corner of her lips twitching upward.

He was still smiling, nonplussed by her reaction.

“So what’s your name?” he asked. “So I can at least address you correctly.”

“Just don’t address me. Problem solved.”

“What about when I think about you? I can’t keep referring to you as the small snarky blonde forever. It’s long.”

She sighed dramatically, giving in to his game.

“I’m afraid my real name is only longer, Logan.”

“You remembered my name,” he commented with a giddy smile.

She rolled her eyes.

“It’s not like I get showered with information on the daily. I’m on vacation.”

“I could shower you with information. Did you know Shakespeare’s wife was called Anne Hathaway?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Okay. Did you know that cats can be allergic to humans?”

“No,” she conceded.

He had a triumphant look on his face.

“Now will you tell me your name?” he asked.

“Jessica Ashley Shannon Lindsey Rosamund Smith,” she deadpanned.

“Really?”

She rolled her eyes again.

“No, not really. Not even close.”

“You know, you should really stop rolling your eyes at people so much.”

“I don’t roll my eyes at people so much. Just the annoying, persistent, or incurably stupid ones.”

“Which one am I?”

“Gee, take your pick. I don’t know enough to be sure about incurably stupid.”

“I just taught you a fact about cats. That has to count for something.”

“You know one interesting fact? Is that all you’re going to say to convince me you aren’t incurably stupid?”

“How about you get to know me better and find out?”

Veronica couldn’t even explain it to herself, but when he found her in the deserted village playground the next day, she didn’t tell him to leave her alone even once. Nor when she bumped into him at the ice cream shop the day after that, or when he sat down next to her on the beach the following day.

“Will you tell me your name now that I know your favourite ice cream flavour?” he asked her after a week of increasingly long meetings here and there around the village.

They had been sitting cross legged in the same field in which he had found her during his second day in town for nearly three hours, talking. Granted, he had been supplying most of the information, but he had managed to make her smile three times and almost laugh once.

“Betty,” she said.

“Really?”

“No,” she said, fighting a laugh.

“Why won’t you tell me? Is it some super embarrassing name that means dick in a foreign language? Because I have a friend who’s _actually_ called Dick back home.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. If she wasn’t careful, he would actually make her laugh.

“Then why is it?”

In truth, she didn’t really know anymore. It was just a game at this point, trying to see how much time she could go. See how long he’d insist, if he’d let go. She had even started enjoying his company, not that she’d ever tell him any such thing.

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you. Believe it or not, I’d rather not have to do that.”

“Because you care about my poor mother who will mourn me forever?”

She snorted. It didn’t count as a laugh, she told herself.

“Because then I’d have to cover it up, and the cops will come after me.” She shook her head with disgust.

He laughed.

“Okay, well, I can tell you about me. And you can tell me things about you. It doesn’t have to be your name.”

She nodded, doubtful.

“My name is Logan. I live in LA.”

“You live in California?” she asked, surprised.

“Why, do I strike you as a New York guy maybe? No: Ohio. Wait, wait, no: Montana.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m from Southern California too,” she said. “Neptune.”

“I know Neptune!” he exclaimed, smiling as if it was a revolutionary thing.

She smiled, just a little bit. It was kind of endearing to see him go.

“What else you got?” she asked.

“I drive a yellow Xterra.”

“Wait, that awful yellow thing is _yours_? God, that explains so much.”

“What? What does it explain?” he asked, curious.

“One, that you are a bored rich boy if your parents are renting the Davis House. Two, both you and the car are ridiculously exuberant. Three, you have horrible taste.”

“A bored rich boy? Is that really how you see me?” He seemed almost hurt.

“Partly. I’m still building the picture. Rich boy, drives a yellow monstrosity, lives in LA – wait, is your mom a movie star or something?”

“Or something.”

He clearly didn’t want to talk about that, so she skipped over it.

“So, rich boy, yellow monstrosity, LA…” she recapped, “favourite ice cream is Rocky Road, is always wearing a puka shell necklace, long sleeved shirts in the summer…”

“You _have_ been paying attention,” he said, surprised.

“What, you think I’ve just been hearing from one ear and flushing the information through the other for a week?”

“Well, maybe.”

“How you underestimate me.”

He grinned.

“What else shouldn’t I underestimate?”

“My dad’s wrath if I don’t get home in time for dinner,” she said, looking down at her watch and standing up.

He stood up after her.

“Do you think maybe tomorrow we could meet somewhere instead of me chasing around to try to find you?”

She pretended to think for a moment.

“The beach. At 11,” she said.

So, maybe his company wasn’t so bad. It didn’t change her outlook on people in general.

“I’ll be there,” he said.

She started walking away, then turned around.

“Veronica,” she shot at him.

“What?”

“My name is Veronica.”

“Veronica…” he repeated to himself, testing it out.

She allowed herself a small smile for her walk back home.

“Are you spending the summer here with your parents?” Logan asked Veronica the next day.

He had been right on time at the beach like she’d instructed, and had even brought snacks. Veronica was starting to think that maybe she’d made a friend against her will.

“With my dad,” she replied. “We usually come all together, but…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, not wanting to tell Logan too much about her familial situation.

“What about you, who does the third car belong to?”

“The third car?”

She pointed up to the cliff. From where they were sitting, they could see parts of the Davis House and the three cars parked beside it.

“Oh. Yeah, it’s my dad’s. You already saw my mom, I think.”

She nodded. “Stylish lady with the big sunglasses. Didn’t see her well.”

He nodded too.

“My sister was supposed to come too, but she bailed out at the last minute. Which is probably for the best.”

“What is she doing?”

Veronica couldn’t help herself, she was curious about Logan’s life, so sue her. She was also curious about everyone else, she told herself.

“Acting like she’s a star. She’s not,” he added for her benefit. “She just really takes her ‘career’ seriously. She’s convinced she will be ridiculously famous within two years.”

“I hear people say fame is not as great as it seems. She’ll probably regret that soon.”

“I don’t think so. Trina – she strives on second-hand fame. Just takes it all in. If she manages to become Trina Echolls, movie star, reality star, TV star, whatever, instead of Trina Echolls, pathetic try-hard daughter of Aaron Echolls, her life will be made.”

“Wait, hold on a second. Your father is _Aaron Echolls_?” she asks, bewildered. “Good old Debra’s gossip was true, you guys really _are_ famous.”

“You listen to the town gossip?” Logan asked, numbed.

He hadn’t wanted to tell Veronica about his parents. It had just felt so natural, so easy to talk to her, that it had slipped out. He didn’t know her, not really, after all. He’d thought he’d had a grasp on her (she was a misanthrope, clearly) and understood what kind of person she was, but maybe he had been wrong.

“Not really,” she said carefully, noticing the shift in his tone. “The people who knew my grandmother, they like to talk to me. They more or less shove the gossip my way. Are you okay?” she added finally.

“It’s fine,” he brushed off, “I just don’t like talking about my parents.”

“Because people have preconceived ideas about you based on them?”

That was only part of the problem, but he hummed in approval.

“I get that,” she carried on, looking straight out at the water instead of looking at him beside her. “Your parents don’t define who you are. You get to choose to reject the traits and behaviours you don’t want to carry on.”

“You really believe that?”

She turned to look at him, and her face was strangely solemn.

“I have to.” Then she added, quieter, “or I’ll end up like my mom.”

Logan nodded. He had the instinct to reach out and put his arm around her shoulders, but he felt it was too early for that.

“Let’s talk about something else,” she decided, wiping her face from its previous expression and placing a smile there instead. “What about… something that has nothing to do with parents, or family, or gossip, or home.”

“That doesn’t leave much,” he remarked.

“On the contrary,” she told him. “That leaves right now.”

“Okay. What do you want to do, _right now_?” he asked, smirking.

“I really want to know why you wear orange so often,” Veronica said seriously.

“Camouflage,” was his answer, and when he didn’t elaborate, Veronica gestured for him to go on. “What if I’m walking around a pumpkin patch and a serial killer arrives? My only chance is to hide among the pumpkins.”

She laughed, his response taking her by surprise, and he noticed she was really pretty when she didn’t have her guard up.

“Do you go to a lot of pumpkin patches in June?”

“Veronica, I live in a pumpkin patch.”

She laughed again.

They stayed together for lunch – consisting mainly of the snacks Logan had brought, which wasn’t very healthy, but they were on vacation, so Veronica said it didn’t matter – and through the afternoon. They were sitting down outside the ice cream parlor, watching cars pass in comfortable silence, when Logan asked a question he’d been itching to ask since he’d first encountered Veronica.

“Why are you so defensive when it comes to new people?” he asked carefully, looking at her from under his eyelashes.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I had to, like, _really_ fight for you to talk to me. It is not easy to become Veronica Mars’ friend.”

“Are we friends?” she asked, teasing. She’d accepted that, as weird as it was, she was friends with Logan now. The puka shell wearing boy driving the ugly car and living in the most expensive house in town. Who would have thought?

“Veronica.”

She sighed. “I don’t know, I guess I just don’t trust people easily,” she said, stabbing her spoon into her ice cream. “Bad experiences in the past.” It wasn’t much of an explanation, but he took it.

“So I passed the test?” Logan asked, a teasing gleam in his eye, scooping up some of his Rocky Road.

“The jury’s still out,” she replied, matching his expression.

For a second he really wanted to kiss her.

“Why are you always out and about?” Veronica asked him the next day.

They were in the playground, sitting in adjoining swings. There weren’t any children in Clatham Cove most of the time, so it was nice place to be alone.

“I could ask you the same question,” he pointed out.

“But I asked first,” she said.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“To get away from the house?” he eventually said, more like a suggestion, turning to her with a grimace.

“The people at the house?” she asked softly.

He nodded, barely perceptible. She nodded inwardly. She wanted to know more, but also felt that it wasn’t her place to pry. If he wanted to tell her, he would.

“So, why are _you_ always out and about?” he asked.

“I like the air.” When he laughed, she insisted. “No, really! The salt air of the shore. It’s nice. And I like exploring. When I was growing up and we’d come here, I’d go outside and discover all the things there were to see. And I could avoid my mom when she was… It doesn’t matter,” she said, shaking her head. “I genuinely like it here.”

“I can see why.”

“It’s your first time out here, right?”

“Yeah. But I like it.”

“Is it just because I’m here?” she joked, bumping into his swing with hers.

“Obviously.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never been to Maine, so I apologize for any inaccurate descriptions! Clatham Cove is a town I made up, and most of my knowledge of Maine comes from Murder She Wrote, which I haven't watched in a few years.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**_Meet me behind the mall_ **

“Daddy, can Logan come over tomorrow?”

“Who’s Logan?”

Veronica rolled her eyes.

“The guy I’m always hanging out with?” she suggested to jog his memory.

It was starting to feel less and less weird to be referring to Logan as her friend, to meet with him every day, to know what he’d order at every place they went. The previous day, when she had gone to the drugstore for some Advil for her dad, the owner had been surprised to see her without Logan. It seemed they had unwittingly become a pair, a set, during the nearly 3 weeks since they’d met. For their defense, it wasn’t like there was much else to do in Clatham Cove. Sticking with the one person her age seemed normal, now. She’d practically forgotten how she had managed to spend all her summer days alone for the past 10 years.

“Right. You don’t need to ask me to bring friends over, honey. You’re not 5.”

“Just making sure,” she said.

“The two of you can’t spend a day apart?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s not that. But it’ll be raining, so we can’t stay outside. And he doesn’t know anyone else.”

She didn’t add that she didn’t want him to be stuck inside his house with his parents. She didn’t know what was going on there, but based on Logan’s face whenever the conversation steered to his family, and the way he closed up, she assumed it wasn’t good. Keith didn’t push. He was curious to meet the person who had managed to make his daughter enjoy the company of others during her yearly getaway from everything and everyone.

“Thank you for having me, Mr. Mars,” Logan said shyly when Veronica closed the door behind him. Veronica found it strange to see him shy, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to have any qualms about any kind of social interaction.

“It’s no problem… Logan, was it?”

Logan nodded, taking off his wet shoes.

“It’s your first summer here, right?” Keith asked, trying to make conversation.

“Dad,” Veronica warned.

“What? What’s wrong with that question? She said not to embarrass her in front of her friend,” Keith added in explanation, turning to Logan.

“And now you’ve done it,” Veronica cringed.

Logan was trying to fight a smirk, and thanked Veronica when she took his jacket to hang it. She made an apologetic face at him, but he waved her off.

“Have I seen your parents around town?” Keith continued, turning to Logan again.

Veronica shook her head silently at him, _steer clear of that, Dad_ , she thought as hard as she could. He seemed to understand, but it was too late, the question was asked.

“I doubt it,” Logan offered simply. “They don’t really go out. Thank God.”

Veronica decided it was probably enough awkward chitchat for the day and put her hand on Logan’s arm.

“Come on, I’ll show you the Mike Doughty records. And some photographs I took, if you want.”

“Ah, the infamous Mike Doughty record collection. How come you bring them on vacation?” he asked, following her up the stairs.

“Don’t have sex up there!” Keith called after them.

“Dad, ew,” Veronica replied, rolling her eyes. “I’m gonna get you back for that, you know,” she added, pointing a finger at her father.

“Ew?” Logan asked with a smirk when they reached the top of the stairs.

“What was I supposed to say?”

“I’m pretty sure a simple ‘no’ would have sufficed,” he replied, trying not to laugh, “But I can now throw all my delusions away.”

“You had delusions?”

“I’m joking, Mars.”

“Oh.”

“I think I’m going to go,” Logan told Veronica, eyeing the downpour outside. It was getting dark and he didn’t want to drive in the dark _and_ the deluge.

“Are you sure?” she came up beside him, pushing him slightly out of the way to look out the window, her hand brushing his to hold the curtain away. “It doesn’t look very safe,” she noted, turning to look at him and suddenly realizing her back was basically flush with his chest.

He smiled at her worried look. “I’ll be fine. There shouldn’t be a lot of people on the road.”

“Okay, but be careful.”

“I will be. Bye, bobcat,” he said with a squeeze at her shoulder and walked towards the door.

“What did you just call me?” she asked with a small laugh, walking after him.

“Trying out a nickname. I kind of like this one. I think it’ll stick.”

“You know what that nickname sounds like?”

“What?”

“A pet name.”

“I can’t tell if you’re making a pun with the fact that a bobcat is an animal or if that’s a legitimate concern.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“Because you didn’t think of the pun?” he suggested, and added a triumphant “ha!” when she stuck her tongue out at him for lack of a better retort.

“Whatever, just don’t call me that in front of my dad.”

“Why not?”

“Then he’ll think we’re dating again.”

“You really _are_ embarrassed by me, huh?”

“I just invited you to my house, idiot.”

He smirked.

“When did he think we were dating?” he asked.

“When he noticed I wasn’t spending all my days alone anymore. Apparently, a girl can’t make friends.”

“I think that’s a you thing. I’d believe you were dating me,” he supplied. At her glare, he explained, “You aren’t especially approachable. It seems more likely that you got caught up into an angry make out session than that you actually talked to someone enough for them to tolerate you.”

“Why do I tolerate _you_ , again?”

“Please,” he scoffed, pointing at himself, as if that was all the information anyone needed.

She swatted his arm.

“Go, and try not to die.”

He opened the door, and just before stepping into it, he replied, “See you tomorrow, bobcat.”

She rolled her eyes. It was a ridiculous name. Still, it was sweet that he’d thought she needed a nickname, just for the two of them.

“You ever go by Ronnie?”

“No,” she replied forcefully.

He smiled, seeming positively gleeful to have uncovered a button to push.

“You ever go by Lo?” she countered.

“No, but not a single Logan does.”

He was right, of course, but she would rather be chained to a burning building than admit it. Okay, maybe not chained to a burning building, but still. Potentially make out with a broken bottle.

“What do your friends call you, then?” he asked, looking up at her. He was lying down in the grass, looking at a seated Veronica through the dry strands of grass he was braiding together.

“I don’t have friends.”

“I know that’s not true.”

“Fine. They just call me Veronica.”

“So who called you Ronnie?”

“No one calls me Ronnie, I just told you.”

“Well, you say that, but then the intensity of that ‘no’ says there’s a story behind it.”

Why did he have to be so damn perceptive? Maybe he wasn’t all that perceptive, just perceptive about her. She wondered fleetingly when they had gotten so comfortable with each other, able to read the other’s reactions and tells.

“My ex called me Ronnie. You happy?”

“Very. Do tell me about that ex of yours.”

“Why are you interested in my ex?”

“To see what your type is.”

She couldn’t tell if he was serious or teasing her.

“We broke up for a reason,” she pointed out. “He’s _not_ my type.”

He didn’t say anything, just kept looking at her, so she started talking about Duncan.

“He’s Lilly’s brother. Remember I told you about Lilly?” He nodded. “Well, she set us up, kind of. It was nice, at first. But he is _so boring_. I realized I practically dreaded seeing him, so I thought it was a good idea to call it off.”

“Wise decision. You should only date people you always want to know more about. People you enjoy seeing.”

Veronica looked at him intently for an instant too long, and he asked, “What?”

“No, you’re right,” she finally said.

Had he not noticed he’d been describing the two of them?

“I just realized I’ve never taken you to the docks! It’s not too far from here, maybe 30 minutes. We can take my car! They have amazing crab cakes. Do you have plans for tomorrow?”

“Don’t you think maybe if I had plans tomorrow you’d know about them?” Logan asked.

“I mean… maybe you do have secrets.”

“You know my secrets. Well, most of them.”

“I haven’t even known you a month. You told me everything already?”

“Not everything. And believe it or not, it’s not often I spend almost the entire day with the same person for 3 weeks straight. I’m not trained in the whole ‘what to say when’ idea with that kind of speed.”

“Do I make you rethink the entirety of your social skills?” she teased.

“Yes,” he replied, and she laughed, but he was serious.

“So, about tomorrow. Crab cakes?”

“I’m afraid it’s not the best idea,” he replied. “I’m allergic to shellfish.”

“You’re allergic to shellfish and your parents took you to spend the summer in a small town in Maine?”

“My dad doesn’t exactly know I’m allergic to shellfish,” he said, hesitant.

“What, is it some kind of new secret thing? Because, not to be rude, but that’s a lame secret.”

“No, he just… doesn’t give a shit,” Logan muttered, evidently uncomfortable with the subject.

“Oh.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“I could go and watch you eat crab cakes,” he supplied.

“That would be such a waste of a trip,” she pointed out.

He shrugged. “Well, it would make you happy.”

“How allergic are you?”

“Can’t eat it, better if I don’t touch it either.”

“Too dangerous,” she settled. “It would ruin the trip for sure if we had to take you to the hospital. Your mom would be mad at me for putting you in danger for nothing.”

“Not mad,” Logan started, and they finished together, “just disappointed.”

“You cannot be serious. Empire is the best Star Wars movie, it’s not even a contest!” Veronica exclaimed.

“See, I hear you, but I raise you: Ewoks.”

“What about Ewoks?” she asked, nonplussed.

“What about – Veronica! Ewoks are adorable space teddy bears that help defeat the Empire!” Logan told her, affronted, even sitting up from his lying position to be at face level with her.

“Their tools barely did any damage.”

Logan shook his head. “Every contribution is important.”

She snorted.

“Really, though, come on. Return of the Jedi has not only the Ewoks, but also the Force lightning. The totally badass scene on Tatooine with Luke’s new lightsaber. Leia killing Jabba. It has everything!”

“Oh, I see what this is about. This is about the gold bikini,” Veronica smirked.

“No, it’s not. Not entirely,” he amended. He shifted to look at her better. “It has a happy ending! Everyone is happy! Do you hate happy endings, Veronica Mars? If so, we can’t be friends anymore.”

“I hate happy endings,” she deadpanned, looking him straight in the eye.

“You’re lying,” he decided.

“I’m not _lying_. Just exaggerating. Happy endings are overrated. Nice complex endings, with the good and the bad, are better. See: The Empire Strikes Back.”

“Happy endings are not overrated. It’s much harder to pull off a good happy ending. It’s too easy to kill someone off to finish everything with a wave of shock, or leave off at a cliffhanger you don’t know how to solve.”

She cocked her head. “Logan Echolls, happy ending enthusiast. Wouldn’t have been my first guess.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

She stood up.

“I have to get home,” she said apologetically. “Oh, but I have to go to the mall in Portland tomorrow. It’s about 45 minutes away. Wanna come with?”

“Sure.”

“Great, come over for 9 AM?”

He nodded and stood up with her, then leaned in and brushed away a strand of grass still stuck in her hair, his fingers brushing against her cheek. She slightly stiffened at the touch, a reflex kicking in. He must have noticed, because he took a step back.

“Sorry,” he immediately said.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing,” she shrugged off, forcing her body to relax.

It wasn’t nothing, but it had nothing to do with him, and she definitely didn’t want to talk about it. He eyed her worriedly, but let it go.

“Be careful on the road, okay?” Keith told his daughter.

“Dad, I drove all the way from Neptune to here. I can take the 45 minutes drive to Portland.”

“I was keeping you in check for that trip. The road is always more dangerous when alone.”

“You totally just made that up. Besides, I won’t be alone. Logan is coming with me.”

Keith raised an eyebrow.

“You sure spend a lot of time with Logan.”

“Is there a point to this, or is that just a flat remark?”

“No, no, nothing. Just noticing. It’s good that you’ve made a friend.”

Veronica nodded, pursing her lips, then kissed her dad’s cheek and walked out the door. Logan was waiting by her car, leaning on the hood.

“You ready for a road trip?” she asked him, unlocking the doors and sitting in the driver’s seat.

“I don’t think I’d call it a road trip. Hey, I have never been in your car before.”

“That’s because you’re allergic to shellfish,” she pointed out, and he snorted, buckling his seatbelt.

“Oh, hey, I realize – I should probably have offered to pick you up. How did you get to my house? I didn’t see your car. Thankfully,” she added with a smirk.

“You should know it’s a great car,” he protested. “And, uh, my mom dropped me off,” he muttered.

“Your mom dropped you off?” she asked, looking away from the road to see his lightly embarrassed face. “That is the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You know, not everyone is fortunate enough to own a car at 17.”

“Says the guy who had a brand-new expensive car for his 16th birthday.”

“False. It was two days late.”

She rolled her eyes.

Veronica had a very clear list of things she had to buy at the mall, her dad had repeated it all to her at least three times that morning alone. New bedsheets, because the ones at the village store were itchy and the ones at the cottage were starting to wear thin. Oven mitts because she’d burned theirs. (It wasn’t entirely her fault. Wasn’t the whole point of these things to handle very hot plates and pots?) Bug spray because the one they sold in Clatham Cove made her sneeze. A handful of other things that she decided she would take care of in the afternoon.

The oven mitts and bug spray were fairly easy to find, but the bedsheets proved to be trickier.

“Dad said plain white sheets, for a double bed. Why aren’t there any white sheets in this store?” Veronica sighed, looking through another pile of packages.

“Because it’s boring,” Logan suggested.

“Logan, you can’t just rest on the demonstration beds.”

“Why not? The point of a bed is to have people in it. It’s a better demonstration this way. Come on, try it, you’ll see.”

“I know what a bed feels like.”

“But have you ever tried…” he looked at the tag on his right, “the extra support 3rd generation adjustable mattress?”

“What does that even mean?” she asked, approaching to look at the tag.

“That’s why you have to try them. The explanations aren’t worth anything. Hey, the demo bed has white sheets. Can we just take them?”

“Have you been in any store in your life, ever?”

“No.”

She rolled her eyes.

They had had to ask a store employee about the sheets – they didn’t expose them because they weren’t as attractive to clients, he had said, which Veronica had found to be profoundly stupid, but Logan had looked at her with a victorious grin – and by the time Veronica had paid for them, it was high time for lunch.

“So, what’s your poison?” she asked Logan, looking around at the food court offerings.

“Emotionally unavailable women.”

“I’m dying of laughter.”

They ended up having burgers and a portion of fries to share.

“Oh, shit,” Veronica suddenly said, turning to look straight at Logan.

“What is it?”

“Over there, your 10 o’clock. That’s not where 10 o’clock is,” she hissed when he turned to his right. “Behind me. Tallish guy, red shirt.”

“Yeah, I see him. Who is he?”

“His name is Stosh Piznarski. Piz. He’s the grandson of a lady who used to play bridge with my grandmother. They kept trying to set us up when we were kids. And even once my grandmother died, he still tried to ask me out.”

“Seeing the difficulty I had getting you to talk to me, I assume he didn’t have much success.”

“No,” she gave a small laugh. “But he kept trying.” She shook her head. “I haven’t seen him in a couple of years.”

“And you’d rather not talk to him?”

“I’d rather not have him ask me out again.”

“Okay. Well, bad news: he’s coming this way. He definitely recognized you.”

“Crap. Okay, follow my lead.”

Before he had time asking what she meant, Piz was there.

“Hey, Veronica!”

“Piz! What a surprise.”

“What are you doing out here in Portland?” Piz asked.

“Oh, Logan and I,” she motioned from Logan to Piz and Logan raised his hand in acknowledgment, “drove up here to do some shopping for my dad.”

“Oh. I don’t think we’ve met,” Piz replied, leaning towards Logan to shake his hand. Logan had thought his salute had been enough, but he shook Piz’s hand anyway. “You from Clatham Cove too?” he asked.

“There for the summer,” he answered.

“And you two are…?” Piz asked, motioning between Logan and Veronica, and Logan practically rolled his eyes at how pathetic the guy’s attempts were.

“Dating!” Veronica cut in, taking Logan’s hand in hers. “For a few weeks.”

Logan nodded, smiling at Piz. He snaked his free arm around Veronica’s shoulder just as she went for a fry from the plate between them.

“Oh,” Piz said, apparently at a loss for word. _He didn’t plan ahead for that kind of response?_ Logan wondered, baffled by the young man.

“Well, enjoy your day in Portland!” Piz finally said, and Veronica waved with a fake, sugary smile.

She shrugged off Logan’s hand and said, “thanks for that” before resuming the meal as if nothing had happened. As if Logan’s heartrate hadn’t accelerated furiously when she had told Piz they were dating.

Once everything had been loaded in the car, Veronica suggested to go sit down and finish their bag of candy before hitting the road. They sat side by side on the narrow sidewalk behind the mall, their thighs almost touching.

“How mature do you think we look, not resisting the urge to buy a random bag of candy when there are no adults to police us?” Logan asked, popping a gummy worm in his mouth.

“Very, given that we only bought _one_. For two of us. That’s practically a diet.”

Logan nodded dutifully.

“So are we going to talk about the whole Piz incident or sweep that under the rug?” he asked innocently.

She turned to look up at him, and they were so close he thought maybe if he leaned down just a little bit her lips would be _right there_ and maybe she’d let him kiss her if he asked nicely.

“I _was_ going to sweep it under the rug. But if you have anything to add, I’m all ears. Was I not believable enough? I can try to hone my craft for next time,” she joked.

 _Maybe too believable_ , was all Logan could think about.

“No, you were good. Very believable. Just… you know.”

“I don’t know,” Veronica said, titling her head, puzzled.

_Yeah, me neither._

“It doesn’t matter. You can have the last one,” he diverted, tipping the nearly empty bag towards her.

He wiped his hands on his jeans and got up.

“Let’s go, we have some road to cover,” he said, and held out his hand to help her up.

_That finger making a path down my arm sure felt believable._

“Are you okay? You’ve been silent all trip,” Veronica asked, looking over at Logan.

“I’m fine, just a bit tired.”

“You’d think all the sugar you had would make you a bit more hyper,” she smiled.

“Yeah,” he replied, forcing a smile.

She frowned but didn’t say anything more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems I am unable to write a fic without a Star Wars reference... oh well. By the way, I'm with Logan on this one. Return of the Jedi all the way.  
> Thank you for the comments on my first chapter! Hopefully this one is interesting enough to keep reading haha


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**_‘Cause you were never mine_ **

“You remember Lilly?” Veronica asked Logan a few days later.

They were back at the ice cream parlor, eating the same thing they always did: Rocky Road for Logan, caramel for Veronica.

“Not, like, personally, but yes.”

“She’s coming to spend a week here. She’ll arrive on the 28th.”

“Of June?” he asked, scooping some ice cream into his mouth.

“No, of October. Just in time for Halloween.”

He ignored her. “It will be nice to meet her. I’ve heard a lot about her. Oh, does she have embarrassing Veronica stories?” he asked, hopeful.

“Tons. But she won’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“That’s Lilly’s thing: secrets. She has hundreds of them. You have to earn every single one of them separately.”

“Challenge accepted.”

She shook her head at his cocky grin.

"Behave, okay? Lilly's my best friend."

"I thought I was your best friend."

She rolled her eyes, not dignifying his remark with an answer. In truth, she was a bit scared Logan and Lilly wouldn’t get along – after all, they were her two best friends (although she would never tell Logan that, it would get to his head), and she hoped they wouldn’t hate each other and tear each other in pieces.

“She’s the only part of Neptune I miss. The only part of Neptune I like, actually,” she said.

“I’m sure she’s great.”

Veronica smiled, grateful for his soothing remark. “Yeah.”

Lilly came by plane. Her parents, revolutionary software designer Jake Kane and his wife Celeste, were incredibly rich, it was absolutely no problem for them to issue a plane ticket to their eldest child, and besides, Celeste was probably glad to be rid of her daughter for a week. There was no love lost between the two Kane women.

When Lilly saw Veronica at the airport, she positively shrieked and ran to her best friend, abandoning her luggage at her feet when she reached Veronica to pull her in an enthusiastic hug.

“How was your flight?” Veronica asked, the laugh from Lilly’s antics still on her lips.

“Oh, you know. Boring. But I did meet a very cute boy during my layover in Philly,” Lilly said, airy.

“Are you ever going to see him again?” Veronica asked.

“I doubt it. But hey, we had a fun little hour. It took him all of 10 minutes to ask if he could kiss me. Can you believe it? Maybe I lost my touch,” Lilly mused.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Veronica replied, smiling a rare smile at seeing her best friend again.

“Oh, but do tell me about _your_ cute friend!” Lilly exclaimed, an exuberant hand dropping to Veronica’s arm.

“I don’t know if I’d go with ‘cute’.”

“Please,” Lilly scoffed.

“What?”

“Like I haven’t trained you to hang out with beautiful people.”

Veronica rolled her eyes but kept smiling. It was good to have Lilly back.

“So?” Lilly insisted.

They had reached Veronica’s car, and she popped the trunk, then helped Lilly settle her suitcase inside.

“I don’t know,” she finally said when they were both safely in her car. “Logan’s hard to describe. He’s… well, you’ll see. You’ll meet him tomorrow.”

Lilly clapped her hands in anticipation.

Lilly had been to Clatham Cove once before, when they were 11 years old. That time, the two girls had slept in Veronica’s bed, chatting away all night for the duration of Lilly’s stay. Now that they were 17 though (well, Lilly was already 18), no matter how short they both were, Veronica’s double bed wasn’t ideal for the two of them, especially that Lilly moved a lot in her sleep and that surprise contact put Veronica on edge. For the first time in years, Veronica had made her grandmother Reynolds’ bed, all ready for her best friend.

“You’ll have to squeeze in your clothes with mine in your closet,” Veronica apologized, “The one in my room got destroyed by termites.”

“That’s fine,” Lilly waved off. “Maybe if our closets are one for the week, I can get you to wear something more flattering.”

She gestured in the general direction of Veronica’s clothes, who laughed. She didn’t take it personally, she knew that was Lilly’s love language.

“Like what?” she asked instead.

Lilly looked like it was the question she had been awaiting as she started digging in her suitcase, open on the bed.

“Like… this!” she said, extracting a red top.

“No way, I’m not wearing that. It’s sleeveless!”

“No, it’s not, look,” Lilly countered, unfolding the top, “it has spaghetti straps.”

“I’m not going to fill that thing,” Veronica furthered, knowing quite well that Lilly had a lot more chest than her.

“Sure you are! Come on, try it on,” Lilly insisted, and Veronica rolled her eyes but reluctantly took off her shirt.

“I’m sure it’ll look horrible on me,” she noted when Lilly held it out to her.

“Uh-huh,” Lilly said, looking like she didn’t have a care in the world.

“That’s new,” were the first words out of Logan’s mouth the next day when Veronica walked towards him at the beach. He was pointing at the red top Lilly had insisted she wear. Veronica wouldn’t have caved, but during the night, Lilly had hidden all her regular shirts. Sneaky bitch.

Veronica rolled her eyes. “It’s not mine, it’s Lilly’s.”

“She has fine taste.”

“Shut up,” Veronica muttered, trying very hard not to blush, as Lilly arrived their way, struggling in her heeled sandals.

“Why, thank you!” she called to Logan from where she was still slowly descending the hill that led to the narrow strand of sand they called a beach.

“That’s your friend Lilly?” Logan asked, surprised, pointing to the elegant and curvy blonde coming their way.

“Yeah, why?” she asked, then turned to Lilly and called, “I told you not to wear heels! Now you look like an idiot!”

“No I don’t!” Lilly called back, “I look desirable and fashionably late!”

Veronica rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling in an effortless way Logan had rarely seen before.

When Lilly finally arrived, making her way to Logan and Veronica, she was slightly out of breath from her laborious walk, but still maintained her all-consuming presence and characteristic smile.

“Lilly Kane,” she introduced herself, sticking out her hand for Logan.

He shook it. “I’m Logan,” he simply said.

If Lilly noticed he didn’t disclose his last name, she didn’t show it.

“Nice to meet you, Logan.”

“Nice to meet you too. Veronica’s told me a lot about you,” he started, inviting the two girls to sit down on the towel he’d spread out.

The conversation was easy between the three of them, Veronica noticed happily. Logan and Lilly seemed to get along very well, and she started to see the similarities between their personalities more and more as she saw them next to each other. They were both cheeky and outgoing, unlike her, and had a superficial façade but a loving and protective heart underneath. Veronica smiled inwardly and wondered why she had ever been nervous about her two best friends getting along.

“So, what’s Veronica like on vacation?” Lilly asked Logan conspiringly, putting her hand on his arm to enhance her dramatic tone.

“Impossible,” was all Logan answered, looking straight at Veronica with something she didn’t know if she should categorize as a smirk or as a smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. Lilly threw her head back laughing.

Logan looked back at Lilly. “And what is she like during the school year?”

“I’m still right here,” Veronica protested, but they both ignored her.

“She suppresses her personality,” Lilly started.

“I do not!”

Lilly cocked her head at her, shooting her a patented Lilly Kane disbelieving stare.

“I don’t think she’s ever said anything entirely true about herself to anyone in Neptune,” Lilly mused, tapping her finger on her lips. “Except to me, of course. And maybe Duncan.”

“Your brother?” Logan remembered.

Lilly nodded, and looked at Veronica, as if daring her to contradict her.

“I’ve said true things to plenty of people! The doctor, for one,” she started, and Lilly snorted. “Mr. Clemmons, when he accused me of fabricating fake I.D.s.”

“You did fabricate fake I.D.s!” Lilly cried, affronted.

“Not the ones he asked about,” Veronica corrected.

Logan was looking back and forth between the two blondes, fighting the laugh bubbling in his throat.

“This is very enlightening,” he commented.

That night, Lilly was helping Veronica to dry the dishes when she asked her friend:

“So, like, what do you and Logan do all day?”

“Um, we talk, I guess,” she said, handing Lilly a plate. “Sometimes we don’t. We just kind of… sit there. Sometimes he brings a book. I just think.”

“Well, I’m glad you’ve found someone to do that with, but it sounds _boring_ ,” Lilly said, bending her knees and rolling her head to look at Veronica, her exaggerated movement emphasizing her point.

Veronica shrugged. Lilly was vivacious and needed the adrenaline coursing through her veins, and while Veronica did appreciate her fair share of it, she didn’t need as intrinsically as her best friend did. There was something pleasing and soothing about being able to spend days doing nothing important, no stress, no pressure. She liked the thrill, but she wouldn’t seek it out on her own. She had Lilly for that.

When Veronica woke up the morning of Lilly’s fourth day in Clatham Cove, her friend was already out. Lilly really had the gift of feeling at home virtually anywhere. Veronica didn’t dwell on it and simply waited for her to come home, whenever that would be. She imagined Lilly would be flirting with a vendor in his 30s, way too old for her, having her fun.

“I’m legal now,” she’d told Veronica on her birthday, that spring. “This opens so many possibilities.”

“Be careful, Lilly,” Veronica had warned her. “There _are_ creeps everywhere.”

“You sound just like Celeste,” Lilly had replied with a wave of her hand a giggle. “I’m a good judge of character,” she’d added, to reassure her friend just a little.

So when Lilly turned up around 11 with Logan in tow, Veronica was surprised to say the least.

“Logan?” she asked, seeing the two of them walk up the street.

She was sitting on the steps, taking in the sun, reading over the mail her and her dad had received.

“Hey, Veronica,” he said, all smiles. Like it was normal him and Lilly had been hanging out together, without her.

“You were asleep when I woke up, and I was feeling jittery,” Lilly explained, sitting beside her best friend, “so I texted Logan and we met up at the coffee shop for breakfast.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she managed to get out.

The truth was, she didn’t know why she was feeling so betrayed by something as simple as this. She’d wanted Lilly and Logan to get along well, after all. But now they had exchanged numbers, apparently, (when had that happened?) and could text each other early in the morning to plan a get-together without her.

“We knew you’d sleep late, we didn’t want to bother you,” Logan continued, settling down at the bottom of the stairs, shielding his eyes from the sun so he could look up at the two girls.

She nodded. Right, that made sense. They were thoughtful. They had known each other four days and they were a “we”. She mentally hit herself. _Stop it, Veronica, they’re just being nice._

The last evening of Lilly’s week in Clatham Cove coincided with the 4th of July fireworks-and-barbecue party that happened every year at the beach, organized by Mrs. Glendson and her daughter. Everyone in town was invited, and Veronica’s grandmother had _loved_ that night, telling Veronica all about how her first kiss when she was 15 was with a young man at that very same party, every single year. It didn’t look too good to not show up to Mrs. Glendson’s party, whoever you were, so Veronica and her parents had continued attending every year after Madeline was gone. Veronica didn’t feel especially giddy at the idea of having to tell all those strangers why her mother wasn’t there this year, but at least she’d have Lilly, who made every party livelier.

“You can pick a different reason for every person who asks you,” Lilly suggested, carefully applying mascara, looking at herself in the bathroom mirror. “Make it all worth it, see how many ridiculous stories you can get away with telling.”

Veronica smirked at the idea, tying her hair up in two small buns at the top of her head. “I would, but my dad will probably have to recuperate whatever I say.”

Lilly gave a small grunt of approval, moving on to her lipstick.

“Anything I should know about the people there?” she asked.

“Not really. You don’t even have to talk to them, really, unless they talk to you.”

“Veronica, do you even know me?” she asked emphatically, adjusting her cleavage.

When Keith, Veronica and Lilly got to the beach at 8PM, the party was already in full swing. Portable barbecues were scattered around the beach, one or two men were already drunk, and dogs were running around chasing each other.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Lilly declared.

“You’re not 21, they won’t give you one,” Veronica noted.

“Watch and learn, Veronica,” she said with a raise of her eyebrows and not at all discreet adjustments to lower her shirt at the front.

As Lilly left with a wave of her hand, Keith was already long gone, caught up with some of the men from the village he talked to every year at the party, and Logan arrived from behind Veronica.

“Looking for someone?” he asked.

“Not especially,” she grinned, turning to him. “Is that a beer?”

“Hey, don’t take that tone. They gave it to me,” he replied with a smirk, taking a gulp.

“Who gave it to you?”

“That guy,” he replied, pointing to Mr. Murphy.

“Typical.”

“Want a drink?” he asked her.

“No, that’s okay. I brought a bottle of water.”

“What, you don’t trust the drinks these people have prepared?”

“No.”

He nodded, curious, but didn’t comment.

“Guess who might make an appearance tonight?” he asked instead.

“Literally everyone in Clatham Cove?”

“Well, probably, yes, but I meant my parents.”

“Really? Mingling with us peasants?”

He laughed. “Well, my mom does it all the time,” he retorted. “I must have rubbed off on her. Nothing’s set it stone, though.”

She shoved him playfully.

“Hey, be careful! You’re gonna make me spill my beer.”

“You managed to get a beer?” Lilly’s voice asked from behind them.

They turned around to see her approaching with what looked like a fancy cocktail.

“If it isn’t Miss Kane herself,” Logan greeted her.

“I didn’t know they had that kind of cocktail,” Veronica marveled. “Just beer. A lot of it.”

“They don’t,” Lilly said, taking a sip. “Usually.”

She smirked at the two of them, then said: “A lady never reveals her secrets.”

“I think your clothes reveal your secrets,” Veronica noted, and Logan laughed.

“Veronica, not in front of the male population,” Lilly widened her eyes with a smirk and a pointed look at Logan, who only laughed more.

“Oh, and by the way, Duncan texted me yesterday. He asked how you were doing,” Lilly told Veronica.

“What did you say?”

“That you had found a job as a stripper and were the rising star of Clatham Cove.”

“You didn’t.”

“No,” she admitted. “I just said you were doing good. I mean, seriously, he couldn’t wait until I got back?”

“Maybe he’s still in love with Veronica,” Logan piped up.

“I don’t think he ever _was_ in love with me.”

“Who’s to say? You should ask him,” Lilly said, looking at Veronica under her long eyelashes.

“Why? Lilly, are you trying to get me back together with your brother?”

She made an innocent face, which Veronica took to mean yes.

“He’s so boring. You told me _I_ was boring, and I find _him_ boring. Do you know how boring that makes him?” Veronica whined.

“You mean there’s someone more boring that you on the planet?” Logan asked, in mock surprise.

“You think I’m boring?” Veronica asked, her voice suddenly smaller.

She immediately wished she hadn’t asked, because she didn’t want to hear his answer. So, before he could say anything, she muttered “sorry,” and left towards the chemical bathroom Mrs. Glendson had had placed at the edge of the beach, near the cliff.

She stayed standing in the little cubicle, breathing slowly and trying to control the thoughts swirling in her head. _You knew this information already, Logan, you knew I thought Duncan was boring. Why did you have to make a joke out of it?_ It wasn’t so much the joke, but that he was taking Lilly’s side in saying she was boring. Why had he spent so much time with her in the past month if he thought she was boring? Maybe he’d only just realized she was boring, in comparison to Lilly, fun, daring, free, flirty and adventurous Lilly. _I know Lilly is more interesting than me, but he was my friend first._ Regardless of the time he’d spent with Lilly in the last week, becoming easy friends, apparently, surely he couldn’t already prefer Lilly’s presence to Veronica’s? No, of course not. _I hope_.

And in any case, this was what Veronica had wanted, for Logan and Lilly to get along, to get her friends together and have fun with both of them. Instead, she was suffocating in a chemical bathroom and everyone was probably wondering what the hell she was doing. She took a deep breath, grimaced at the smell, and opened the door, stepping back out onto the beach.

By then, the sun had set, but the fireworks hadn’t started yet, so it was hard to see anything. Veronica looked around for her friends or her dad, but couldn’t see any of them in the growing mass of people. Starting to slightly panic, she looked around, moved further away from the gathering to hang back to where the beach dissolved into a hill. She could vaguely make out people over by the side, and decided to go ask if any of them had seen Logan or her dad – she doubted anyone knew who Lilly was yet, unless she’d unleashed more cleavage for more drinks – and just then, the first shell was shot into the sky and burst into a shower of red sparkles. All around her, she could hear cheers, but Veronica stopped dead in her tracks, not even turning to see the pyrotechnics. As it had exploded, the firework had illuminated in a red glow most of the beach – including the people Veronica had been heading towards. In the vaguely menacing red glow, then the blue glow, then the green, over and over again their faces stuck out to her and she couldn’t move.

It must have been at least a minute since she’d first seen them, but they were still kissing. Logan and Lilly were kissing, hanging back from the group, and Veronica couldn’t think a single coherent thought. She registered everything, Logan’s arms around Lilly’s waist, her hands messily tousling his hair, even the sounds she could barely make out from where she was, of their lips meeting again and again.

After what seemed like an eternity, Veronica spun around and went back to the mass of people captivated by the light show, frantically trying to find her dad. When she finally found him, she had to practically shout for him to hear her.

“My head hurts,” she bellowed, “I’m going home. Can you make sure Lilly gets home safely?”

Keith nodded emphatically and gave her a double thumbs up.

“Are you okay?” he asked loudly, pointing to his own head.

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” she screamed back.

She walked slowly to the edge of the beach, not wanting to attract attention to herself. But once she was out of everyone’s view, she broke into a run and didn’t stop until she reached the cottage. She threw open the door and took the steps two by two to her room, before launching herself to her bed.

_Deep breaths, Veronica, deep breaths._

But she couldn’t breathe and she just started crying instead. She couldn’t fully work out yet why this was upsetting, she just knew it _hurt_ and she let herself have this, just this once. Let herself cry, get it out, and later maybe it would feel better. Maybe she wouldn’t feel like never moving from her bed again.

She woke up the next morning still dressed in her clothes from the party, on top of her covers, streaks of mascara on her pillow. Her eyes were still puffy and she couldn’t remember why, but then she glanced at her phone and saw the 5 missed calls from Logan and remembered. She felt the tears coming again, so she closed her eyes as tightly as she could and shook her head. She wouldn’t cry, not today. She had done that yesterday, that was done. So what if Logan and Lilly had kissed? So what.

Neither of them owed her anything, she decided, heading to the bathroom to take a shower. Then she realized all her clothes were in the room where Lilly was sleeping, so she tiptoed there and opened the door. Lilly was still sound asleep, so she slipped inside and quickly picked out some clothes, then went back to the bathroom.

Well, they did owe her _something_ , she thought, untying her hair, if only to have introduced them to each other. But, again, that didn’t mean they needed her permission to kiss. They were perfectly free to do that. Weren’t they?

She slipped out of her clothes, threw them in the hamper and got into the shower. _So what so what so what_ , she repeated, twisting under the water to get her hair wet. She passed water on her face and realized she was crying again.

Okay, so maybe she was a bit sad. Maybe she felt it was unfair that she was second to Lilly even with her own friend. Logan had been her friend first. He was the first person (besides her parents, maybe) that had been hers before he ever was Lilly’s. Her first boyfriend had been Lilly’s brother, her friends in the cheerleading squad had been Lilly’s friends first since she’d gotten to high school a year earlier, and her favourite teachers, well, Lilly had had them all before her. She didn’t usually mind, because the only person that really mattered was Lilly. Lilly was her best friend, the one who was always there for her, the one she could hang out with at any time. The others were in periphery, in the centre were Lilly and Veronica, and the rest was a fun but unnecessary addition.

But Logan… Logan had been hers. Her friend, that she’d made on her own (well, really, who had made himself her friend). The person she liked best (after Lilly). The person who made her laugh more often than she really wanted to admit to him. The person to whom she felt she could say almost anything and it wouldn’t be weird. The person with whom she could just do _nothing_ for hours and still enjoy it. Of course she’d wanted to share him with Lilly, who had shared everyone with Veronica.

And she’d hoped they’d get along well, because it would break her heart if two people she loved so dearly hated each other. So why was her heart breaking at the fact that they liked each other so much?

With Logan, since the beginning of the summer, she’d always been first. He’d sought her out and chased her until she let him in, and then he’d been her friend. They met up in the morning and went their separate ways at the end of the day, like a natural flow. He knew what to order for her if she was later than usual, he came with her to the mall. He came to her house on rainy days. He put her before anyone else, and he smiled at her in a way he smiled at no one else, and apparently she’d taken that for granted. Because suddenly he was smiling that way at Lilly too and he was kissing Lilly when Veronica was away and he was meeting Lilly for breakfast.

She didn’t realize how much she liked being Logan’s number 1 person until she wasn’t anymore. Logan didn’t kiss her. It wasn’t like she _wanted_ him to kiss her, but he had never shown any kind of desire to kiss her, had he? But he wanted to kiss Lilly. He _did_ kiss Lilly. Maybe if she had kissed him she’d still be his favourite.

She shook her head, wiping away her tears angrily. That was completely irrational thinking, and it would get her nowhere anyway. It was all Logan’s fault. If he hadn’t been like every other boy, she wouldn’t be feeling this way. But no, like every other person, he had been caught in Lilly’s spell and now Veronica was crying in her shower.

It wasn’t like she didn’t understand the general consensus that Lilly Kane was godsent. (The only person who didn’t seem to agree was Celeste, but Celeste also hated Veronica for whatever reason, so Veronica didn’t fare much better.) Veronica loved Lilly, there was a reason she was her best friend, a reason why she’d invited her to come live with her for a week on the other side of the country. Lilly was a force of nature, full of life, hypnotizing, and turned every situation into unmatched fun. Lilly was charming and beautiful, she was traditionally beautiful, more than Veronica could ever be, and she wrapped everyone around her finger. She was delightful and the best person to have on your side. No, really, if she was a straight dude, Veronica was pretty sure she’d have fallen for Lilly, too. Anyone would be lucky to be bathed, even momentarily, into Lilly Kane’s glow.

She didn’t hold it against Lilly, never had and probably never would. It was just who she was, this wonderful person, so full of vitality that everyone gravitated towards her. Besides, Veronica loved her best friend too much to really blame or resent her.

Logan, though… well. She was mad at him. It was so much easier to be mad at him than to try to sort out everything. Logan was just like every other person. He couldn’t resist the pull of Lilly, even if Veronica thought he was different. He’d let her believe she was the person he wanted to spend his time with, but when Lilly came around, Veronica took the backseat and became second best. Just like always. She shouldn’t even be surprised, she thought, because it was about time someone reminded her she was meant to be in the shadow. The shadows were comfortable, she could do her business in peace, she could go unnoticed and be perfectly happy. But no, Logan had had to drag her out of them, had to make her feel like she was the goddamn light, and now going back to the shadow felt like being thrown on the floor.

If only one person hadn’t succumbed to Lilly’s charm. Just one. That would have been enough.

“Where were you last night?” Lilly asked, yawning and stretching as she walked into the kitchen where Veronica was cooking breakfast. “You disappeared. Your dad said your head hurt.”

“Uh, yeah. It did, so I just went home to lie down. I’m better now,” Veronica said, determined to make her last morning with Lilly fun.

Lilly looked doubtful, but nodded.

“We’ll leave here around 11:30, do you think that’s okay for you?” Veronica asked, pouring her friend coffee.

“Yeah, you probably know my schedule better than I do,” Lilly giggled.

“Well… thank you for having me, Veronica! Really,” Lilly declared at the airport, hugging Veronica tightly.

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome, Lil.”

“Are you okay? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine. Just sad you’re leaving, that’s all.”

“Aw, sweetie!” Lilly said emphatically, dropping a kiss to Veronica’s cheek. “You’ll get over me,” she waved off with a smile. And I’ll be right there when you come back to Neptune. I promise!”

Veronica laughed. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye, Veronica,” Lilly said, hugging her friend one last time. “Don’t waste your summer, okay?”

Veronica hadn’t exactly been telling Lilly the truth about her mood, but it was true that she would miss her. Without her larger than life presence, Veronica’s car felt empty, the remnants of Lilly’s sultry jasmine perfume still hovering in the air.

As she was taking the exit towards Clatham Cove, she remembered the last time she’d made the trip from Portland. It had been less than two weeks previously, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Logan had been weirdly silent, and told her he was just tired. Today Lilly had noticed Veronica’s trouble and Veronica had brushed her off the same way. What had been on Logan’s mind then?

She took a right turn and pushed all thoughts of Logan out of her mind. She didn’t want to think about him.

But it was hard, not thinking of Logan. Right there was the field where she’d told him her name. Right there was the spot where they’d sat down and eaten ice cream the day all the seats on the outside terrace of the parlor were full. Right there was –

 _Shit_. Right there was a car she definitely hadn’t seen coming. She swerved and pushed her foot on the brake pedal, praying praying praying and hoping that she wouldn’t hit the other car, she was pretty sure that if the LeBaron got into even a small accident, it would be done for.

The other car honked loudly and swerved too, managing to avoid Veronica’s. She heaved a sigh of relief even as the other driver passed her, swearing loudly and making rude gestures.

“Yeah, well, maybe make your stop next time!” she shouted back, just for good measure.

Sure, she should have seen the car coming much earlier if she’d been focusing on the road, but she still technically hadn’t done anything illegal. It felt nice to shout at someone, if only to let some of her anger out.

She didn’t tell her dad about her near accident, because she felt that it would just worry him more. He was already fairly worried by the fact that she had come straight home from the airport, and not set foot outside since.

“You’re not out with Logan today?” he asked her at dinner.

“No,” she simply said. She didn’t want to elaborate.

Logan had called her 4 more times since the morning, and she had ignored every call. Keith raised his eyebrow and eyed his daughter, but let it go.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**_I remember thinking I had you_ **

“Are you okay, honey?” Keith asked Veronica two days later, when she still hadn’t been out.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever been inside this cottage this long. Especially not this summer.”

“It’s a nice cottage.”

“Veronica.”

“I’m fine,” she said, firmly.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Probably.”

The third day, she decided she really needed some air. She’d avoided going outside because she knew Logan could find her easily wherever she went. He’d been able when they’d just met, so now that he knew all her favourite places, it would be a piece of cake. Still, she couldn’t stay inside for two more months, so she ventured out, trying to find a corner she hadn’t told Logan about at one point or another. She was pretty sure she’d been to every corner of town with him, but then she remembered the abandoned treehouse near the highway exit, and headed that way. She had never shown him because he could never fit into the small space, but she just might.

Logan walked up the steps to the Mars cottage – the Reynolds cottage, technically, he remembered, but both Madeline and Lianne Reynolds were gone – and knocked at the door. He had really hoped it wouldn’t come down to this, he didn’t want to barge into Veronica’s space, but he was getting really worried about her.

When Keith opened the door, Logan felt suddenly nervous.

“Good morning, Mr. Mars.”

“Logan,” Keith said with a nod.

“Is Veronica around? I haven’t seen her since the 4th of July party, and she’s not answering my calls, and…” He passed his hand through his hair bashfully. “Well, I’m worried about her.”

“She just went out. Is everything okay?”

“I hope so. I don’t know what’s going on,” he admitted.

Keith nodded thoughtfully. “Sorry,” he told Logan, “I don’t know where she went. I figured she’d meet you.”

“Thank you anyway,” Logan said, and walked back away from the cottage.

It took him nearly two hours of combing the town looking for her, but he eventually saw her sitting at the bottom of a tree, back against the bark, eyes closed. She looked deep in thought, peaceful, and he looked around to see if anyone else was there. All he could see was a battered treehouse, probably too weak to hold anyone in it anymore, resting on branches of the tree by which Veronica was currently resting.

When she heard him approach, her eyes shot open.

“Go away, Logan.”

“Veronica, please. Come on. What’s wrong?”

She turned her back to him as he kept trying to catch her eye.

“Was it something I said? Something I did?” he persisted. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make you mad. Or hurt you. Or make you hate me.”

She didn’t move, so he sighed and flopped down next to her. He noticed a tear on her cheek for the first time. He wanted to reach out and make it disappear, hold her to make her feel better.

“Is this just about you wanting to be alone?” he asked, softening. When she wiped the tear away angrily, he continued, “Is this about Lilly?”

Begrudgingly, she nodded, just once.

“I know you’re sad she’s gone back, but I’m here.”

She stiffened.

“Please, Veronica, look at me,” he pleaded, still trying to catch her eye.

“God, you’re so _stupid_!” she exclaimed, and then stormed off, running away to her house.

Logan stared after her, mouth agape, having no idea what had just happened.

The next day around midday, he found her behind the lighthouse on the beach, tucked between the cliff, the open ocean and the lighthouse itself. He was more hesitant to approach her this time, but his desire to wrong his right won over, whatever his wrong had been. That, and his need to make sure Veronica was doing okay, because his days without her were incredibly bland.

When she saw him, she ignored him, looking back out to the water. He sighed and walked to her, settling down a small distance away, to leave her space. Just in case.

“Veronica…”

She didn’t have a single reaction to his words.

“Will you talk to me? I want to be there for you if you’re hurting, or apologize if I did something to you. Please, Veronica.”

“You sure I’m not too boring for you?” she asked after a minute, still not looking at him, her face impassive.

It seemed like the pieces of the puzzle he had been missing had fallen from the sky, right on his face, crushing him.

“Is that what it’s about?” he asked. “I’m sorry I said that. I shouldn’t have. And it’s false. You’re the most interesting person here. You’re the most interesting person I know. Really. Look at me.”

She looked at him, her face only _slightly_ less of an impassive mask. She looked… sad, maybe. Worn out.

“That’s not what it’s about,” she said.

“Then what is it, Veronica? I want to make it right.”

She looked away again, her entire body seeming to close up.

“I saw you kissing Lilly,” she said. Her voice was passive, neutral. Most of her features were blank, carefully in place, but her chest was trembling when she was taking breaths that should have been regular.

“I didn’t know you’d seen that,” he said stupidly.

“Wow, I feel so much better,” she said, her tone dripping sarcasm.

“Okay, that wasn’t what I meant. That kiss was… it was nothing. We’d both had a bit too much to drink, we didn’t really know what to do when you were gone and… I don’t know.”

“The only thing you thought of doing was _kissing_?”

“I wasn’t in the right state of mind, Veronica! I was…” he wiped his hand across his face, repositioned himself to face her. “I was buzzed, for one. And I was kind of desperate.”

“Desperate?”

“Not important. Just… it was nothing, Veronica.”

“So you just go around kissing girls like it’s nothing? Just because you can?”

“That’s not what I said. It was… Lilly was there, and, well, you know, she’s attractive, and she was touching my arm and leaning on me a lot, I don’t know…”

“That’s not a reason to kiss someone,” she persisted.

“What do you want me to say, Veronica?” he asked, his voice rising. “I said I’m sorry. And I’ll have you know I didn’t do anything wrong. What do you want from me here?”

“You know, I’d have expected this from anyone. I thought you were different. But you’re all the same, you just fall into Lilly’s arms and get caught up it her flirting –”

“It’s not entirely Lilly’s fault –”

“I know it’s not Lilly’s fault!” she shouted. “That’s who she is. I know she does this. I’m used to it. It’s _fine_. You… you’re just one of her boy toys and you let yourself become that and I –”

“Wow. Okay. Thanks, Veronica. I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll try not to become anyone’s _boy toy_ ,” he spat angrily, standing up.

“Logan –”

“Save it,” he said, then turned on his heel and left without a look back.

Veronica realized she had completely, atrociously fucked up when got home. Logan was right, he hadn’t _really_ done anything wrong. Stupid and dumb and hurtful and thoughtless, yes, but not wrong. But now she had.

She wanted to do something about it, because honestly she missed Logan and their days together. And she wanted him back. This time, she had to be the one to reach out. He’d been constantly reaching out to her when he didn’t even know what he’d done wrong (although Veronica thought it was fairly obvious and he definitely should have guessed), so it was her turn.

She looked in the cupboards – yep, she was all good to go. When Keith arrived home a few hours later, fresh from a class or other he was taking somewhere in town to keep himself occupied during the summer in between the few cases he took on, he came straight to the kitchen.

“What’s that I smell?” he asked.

“Snickerdoodles. But they’re not for you. They’re for Logan.”

“About that, he came asking about you yesterday. Said you hadn’t been returning his calls. Is everything okay between the two of you?”

“Yeah…” Veronica didn’t really want to tell her father she’d surprised Logan and Lilly kissing. “Something happened the last night Lilly was there, and I was mad at him. But then when he came looking for me, being all nice, I snapped at him, so…”

“So now you’re baking cookies.”

“Yeah. Kind of a peace offering,” she said with a grimace.

“Usually you use your baking skills for bribery. This is a nice change.”

“It still kind of is bribery,” she pointed out.

“Bribing him into forgiving you?”

“In a way.”

Keith hummed in approval. “Well, you _are_ a Mars.”

“Exactly. I can’t go wasting those skills.”

That evening, she drove to the Davis House, for the first time in her life. She’d seen it from afar for years, but never really came up close. She’d bothered whoever worked for the occupants of the house, asking for information, several times in the past, but she’d done that from town, not coming up here. She was strangely nervous about walking up to the large door.

She knocked, fidgeting, wondering if maybe she should just turn back and leave, until the door opened to a young woman in what looked like a maid’s uniform. She didn’t know people still had maid’s uniforms.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked politely.

“Uh, hi. Is Logan here?” Veronica asked.

“I think so. Would you like me to go fetch him?”

“Please.”

The woman gave a small nod, closed the door gently and Veronica heard footsteps walking away. This was so weird. So formal.

“Veronica,” Logan simply said when he opened the door to find her there. There was no surprise, no anger, no nothing. He just… said her name, giving her no indication of what he was feeling. That was what you got by being raised by two actors, she supposed. It was strange, though, because he was usually so open about his emotions, dispensing smiles like it didn’t cost him a thing.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “For snapping at you. For saying those things, I wasn’t giving you a fair chance, and you’re right, you didn’t, like, really do anything wrong, you have every right to kiss my best friend, I just, I don’t know, I’m used to being second best when Lilly’s there but with you I never felt second best and I guess I didn’t like that when you were kissing her, it meant you liked her better than me and I’m not saying you should kiss me because that would be weird to stand there on your doorstep and say that, but anyway, all I want to say is I’m sorry for saying all those things, I was just hurt and lashed out on you and I shouldn’t have.”

Once she’d gotten it all out in one breath, she looked at him. He looked like he was fighting a smile.

“Oh, and I made you snickerdoodles,” she said, thrusting the box at him. “To say I’m sorry.”

He took the box, walked out, and closed the door behind him. He sat down on the steps and settled the box next to him, so Veronica sat down on his other side.

“You’re forgiven,” he finally said, the smile still tugging at his lips. “And I really am sorry, too. It won’t happen again.”

She opened her mouth, but he stopped her. “I reacted that way when you said you saw us because I really was ready to forget it even happened.”

“So you weren’t, like, going to start secretly dating behind my back?”

He laughed. “No. Well, I don’t know about Lilly, but it wasn’t in my plans.”

“You didn’t talk about it?” Veronica asked, confused.

“No, because it didn’t mean anything and we both knew it. I haven’t talked to her since that night.”

“Not even once? You called me a billion times.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Kinda tells you who’s really second best, don’t you think?” he said.

She smiled, really smiled, for the first time in days. She’d start returning Lilly’s texts, now, maybe. There was less of a risk she’d snap at her or be reminded that her best friend had gotten to kiss Logan and she hadn’t. She didn’t want to kiss Logan, of course. It was just a question of principle.

“Lilly’s great too though, she’s –”

“Veronica. I know. Lilly’s great. But I prefer you. You ought to know that by now.”

She couldn’t stop smiling. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he seemed surprised for a second, but then he tilted his head so it was on top of hers.

“So, we’re okay?” he asked. “We’re friends again?”

“We’re friends again,” she confirmed. “Hey, are you gonna try the snickerdoodles? Because for all you know they weren’t worth forgiving me for.”

“Anything is worth forgiving you for. Do you know how boring those past few days have been without you?”

“Something along the lines of the Ewoks’ presence in the Star Wars franchise?”

He pulled away from her. “You take that back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short! It just felt like a natural place to end it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deals with a few heavy subjects that I felt were necessary to keep the characters true to canon. Nothing that has not been addressed in canon already, but just in case...  
> The chapter contains discussion of child abuse, rape, and substance abuse, as well as short descriptions of blood. If any of those things trigger you, I would recommend skipping this chapter.  
> None of these are explored in detail, but I want to make sure anyone who feels uncomfortable reading about it can be warned.

**Chapter 5**

**_For me, it was enough_ **

**_To live for the hope of it all_ **

“Can I ask you a personal question? You don’t have to answer,” Logan added quickly.

“Go ahead,” she said.

It was a few days since they’d made up, they were lying on their backs, next to each other, on the grass, looking at the clouds.

“What happened to your mother?”

She had a sharp intake of breath.

“You don’t have to answer,” he repeated.

“She left,” Veronica simply stated. “One day she decided it wasn’t what she wanted anymore. She left.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I think, maybe, in a way, we’re better without her, you know? I think she cheated on my dad. And she was an alcoholic,” she said quietly. “Most likely still is. She didn’t like that I wanted her in rehab. She always stopped before the end of her treatment. I blew all the money I’d saved up for college on a treatment she didn’t even finish.”

Logan found her hand in the grass and squeezed it. They had been initiating more and more physical contact since their argument and its subsequent resolution, one step at a time. Logan knew to be careful with the kinds of reactions he had often gotten at touching her without warning. But this seemed fine.

“Is that why you have trouble letting others touch you? Because of your mother?” he asked.

“No,” she breathed out, strangled.

He turned his head to glance her way. She was on the verge of tears. He got up on his elbow to look at her better.

“I’m sorry. Veronica, I’m sorry, are you okay? I didn’t mean to trigger you.”

She shook her head, looking like she was grounding herself in the moment. She opened her eyes, and they were still swimming with tears that weren’t falling down.

“I’m okay. It’s not your fault.”

“My mom’s an addict, too,” he offered, getting back to the ground.

“She is?”

It was her turn to turn her head to look at him, but he was looking at the sky.

“Alcohol, too, but other things.”

She squeezed the hand he hadn’t taken away from hers.

“I almost understand her, though. It makes it easier to forget. To ignore everything.”

Veronica nodded slowly, wondering what Lynn Echolls was making herself ignore.

“Why do you always wear long-sleeved shirts?” she murmured, didn’t want to break the spell of the moment by speaking too loudly.

Logan seemed to hesitate a second, squirming in the long-sleeved shirt he was indeed wearing. Veronica had a feeling she had a part of the answer already.

“You don’t have to answer,” she echoed his words to him.

He turned his head to look her way. She thought her eyes probably looked just like his, shining. In sadness, in a bit of dread. In relief to be able to share it with someone.

“It’s my dad,” he choked out, and Veronica nodded but she was crying, suddenly.

He removed his hand from hers to lift his arm over their heads, and he pulled up his sleeve as high as he could. Veronica gave a small gasp, putting her hand on her mouth, tears still running down her cheeks. His arm was peppered in tiny scars. She’d seen enough of her father’s case files over the years to recognize cigarette burns.

“Does it still hurt?” she whispered, and for a fraction a second she didn’t blame Lynn for wanting to forget this. It didn’t last long, just an instant, but she hated herself for it.

He shook his head, running his thumb over some of the scars as if to demonstrate. She placed a hand on his arm, unsure if it was to hide them or to inject whatever softness she could into them. When he brought his arm back down, she turned to her side to place her head on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “For ever saying anything about your father.”

“You couldn’t know,” he breathed into her hair.

“Yeah.”

She closed her eyes, her tears dripping down to form a wet patch on his shirt. He didn’t seem to mind. His hand was on her back, holding her in place.

“The reason I’m – I’m not good with touch,” she said after several minutes of heavy silence. “Um,” she stopped herself. “You may not want to hear that.”

His breath hitched. What had happened to her?

“Tell me,” he whispered. “If you want to.”

“I haven’t told anyone,” she said, so quietly he had to strain to hear her. “Not my dad, not Lilly. Only the sheriff.”

“Okay.”

She gripped his shirt as some new tears fell from her eyes. She wasn’t meeting his eye, just staring down at his chest.

“He laughed in my face.”

Pieces were starting to fall into place. Logan rubbed his hand on her back, gently. She was sobbing.

“In November, I… I was raped,” she whispered, and her entire body was rocked with sobs.

“I’m sorry. Veronica, I’m so sorry,” he repeated soothingly.

She was clinging on to him tightly, and the only sound coming from her was her laboured breathing as she tried to fight off the crying.

“Get it all out, okay? I’m sorry. Are you okay?” he whispered in her ear.

“I will be,” she murmured.

“Okay.”

Neither of them brought up the subjects of their heart-to-heart in the next days, a secret understanding that what had been said was to stay between them, that it had all unfolded because of the trust they’d placed in each other. They did however avoid the spot where it had happened, just to leave it be sacred for the time being. They reverted back to their lighter conversational topics, but there was a lingering feeling of knowing the other better, a relationship somehow strengthened by what they had shared.

“Why caramel?” Logan asked Veronica a day they’d taken their ice creams with them to the beach. They had opted for cones for once, instead of their usual cups. Logan said they were being adventurous, but Veronica pointed out that in the six weeks they’d been in Clatham Cove, not once had they ordered different flavours.

“Why Rocky Road?” she countered.

They were walking in step, slowly, listening to the waves crash. Peaceful. Outside of the yearly 4th of July party, there was hardly ever anyone there.

“I asked first,” Logan replied cheekily.

“It’s just so… caramelly. It swirls in your mouth and melts in deliciousness.”

“That’s a horrible description,” he noted.

“Taste it and you’ll see,” she persisted, extending her cone towards him.

“I don’t have a spoon.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just lick it, Logan, I’m not scared of your cooties.”

He smirked, holding back the _many_ innuendos he’d just thought of, and handed her his own ice cream as he took hers. He took a tentative taste.

“It’s not _bad_ , but I definitely like the Rocky Road better.”

She tasted his ice cream and made a face. “Can’t imagine why.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes as they switched back their cones.

“We can’t all have great taste, bobcat.”

“It’s been a while since you’ve called me that,” she said with a smile. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten.”

“Me? Never. Why, do you want me to have forgotten?”

“No,” she shook her head.

The light caught on her blond hair and Logan had to fight the urge to tuck it away from her face.

That night, Veronica was up late, looking over her summer homework at the kitchen table for the first time since she arrived in Maine. She was starting to realize she’d need a trip to the bookstore to properly get started for most of it when she heard a noise behind her. She startled, surprised, and turned to see that it had been a knock on the kitchen window. Standing there, white as a sheet, was Logan. She could only see his face, but she was suddenly panicked and worried. She stood up, motioned for him to go around to the front door, and hurried to go open it. She found him, barely able to stand up, his face contorted in a grimace.

“Oh my god, Logan!”

She rushed to steady him, practically carrying him inside, and closed the door behind him. As she repositioned her hand to rest on his back, he winced and she felt his shirt was humid.

 _No_.

“Oh my god. I’ll get you to my bed, okay? Do you think you can help me get you there?”

He nodded but couldn’t get any words out. She nodded back, frantically, thoughts racing in her mind. It took several minutes to get him up the stairs and several stops along the way, but she finally managed, and he collapsed on her bed.

“How did you manage to get here?” she whispered, tugging on his shirt to try to get it off.

“Adrenaline,” he muttered, and she nodded again. Yes, of course, yes. But now the adrenaline was dying down and he was probably only feeling pain.

She helped him move his arms, slid his shirt off, and gasped when she got a look at his back in the small light of her bedside lamp. Her eyes filled with tears, but she wiped them away. Logan didn’t need teary Veronica.

“I’ll be right back, okay? If you need to sleep, sleep.”

She placed a warm hand on his arm, then left for the bathroom.

What could be useful for that kind of wound? There was blood everywhere on his back, she hadn’t been able to see the cuts or gashes. She picked up rubbing alcohol and two clean towels, wetting one of them. She grabbed all the gauze and bandages she could find, and went back to Logan.

His eyes were closed when she came back, but he wasn’t asleep. She took the dry towel and carefully pat it on his back to absorb the blood.

“What happened?” she whispered as the towel progressively got more and more red.

She knew _what_ had happened, but not how come. Maybe Aaron Echolls didn’t need any reasons.

Logan tried to shrug, but winced in pain. She placed a hand on his shoulder tenderly and made shushing sounds.

“I talked back,” he tried.

Veronica could feel her eyes clouding with tears again, but she fought them back. She looked back to her now soaked towel, and put it aside. Long, clear wounds were visible on Logan’s back, and she was scared they’d get infected. She applied the wet towel gently, hoping to clean the wounds a little, but she knew she’d have to resort to the rubbing alcohol.

“This might sting, okay?” she said gently, taking his hand to squeeze it.

“Okay,” he replied, and he sounded like a child.

He hissed a few times while she was cleaning the gashes, but didn’t complain. When she was done, Veronica started clumsily applying gauze on his back. But the lacerated skin was _everywhere_ , she didn’t know how any of her bandages would stay in place. She didn’t even know if she’d disinfected it all properly.

“Thank you, Veronica,” Logan murmured from her pillow.

She moved to his side to look at his face, and she ran her hand across his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“I’m always there for you, okay?” she whispered, letting her tears fall down. “Hopefully never for that again.”

He closed his eyes and breathed in, nodding.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, still so very quiet, still running her thumb on his skin.

“There’s not much to say,” he replied, then winced. “He was mad. I caught him at a bad time.”

_If I ever meet Aaron Echolls, I’m going to kill him, movie star or not._

Veronica leaned down and kissed his forehead.

“I didn’t want to be alone,” he mumbled.

She nodded, then went to lie down beside him. It was tight, but she could fit.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” she agreed.

She was so close to him she could feel his chest rising and falling with his breath, and if she reached out, she could have kissed him. She bit her lip to keep herself from doing it. It wasn’t a good time. And since when did she want to kiss Logan, anyway?

He raised his hand to untuck her lip from her teeth with his thumb. She breathed in, raggedly.

“What would you do if I kissed you now?” he asked her, breathy.

“I’d say you’re delirious because of the pain, and it wouldn’t be a kiss that matters like it should,” she whispered.

He nodded, his hand falling back down to rest on her waist.

“Good night,” he said.

“Good night, Logan.”

He woke up with dawn the next morning, and Veronica almost fell off the bed when she stretched, waking up when she felt him stir. She’d forgotten how close to the edge she was.

“Did you sleep okay?” she asked him.

“Better than you’d expect.”

“I’ll have a look at your back.”

He nodded and settled on his chest. Veronica carefully peeled away the gauze and looked at the skin closely.

“You’ll probably need antibiotic ointment. I don’t have any here, we can go get some from the drugstore. And ask them for help on how to treat that.”

Logan shook his head. “No need to ask them. I know how to deal with it.”

Veronica bit her lip and nodded.

“I’ll go straight to the drugstore,” he said, slowly pushing himself off the bed.

She hurried to his side to help him. “Do you think you’ll be okay? I can come with you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Meet up for lunch?” she asked.

“Always,” he smirked.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” she told him, and he chuckled.

It was a good thing Veronica’s father always slept like a log. He hadn’t heard any of what had happened with Logan, and Veronica didn’t intend to tell him. Still, when he woke up to her throwing a bloody towel and sheets in the washing machine, he had some questions.

“What happened?” he asked her, worried.

“This?” she asked, pointing to the dried blood on her sheets. He nodded, eyes wide, because it was fairly obvious what he was referring to. “Uhhh… yeah. Had a bit of a period-type accident,” she improvised.

“Glad I don’t have a period,” Keith replied.

She had a feeling he knew that was way too much blood for one single night, accident or no accident, but he didn’t say anything. He probably realized she didn’t look hurt, and pretended to believe her.

“How are you? Is it – is it better?” Veronica asked over lunch.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I applied the ointment. And some more gauze. It’s probably not the perfect bandage, but it’ll do. It wasn’t very deep,” he added, quieter.

“It looked pretty bad to me,” she said softly.

“Sorry, by the way. That was probably not the nicest sight to expose you to.”

“Don’t you dare!” she said, pointing her finger at him. “You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing.”

She found his hand on the table and draped her fingers over his.

“I’m there, okay? I’m always there.”

She’d told him the previous night, but she didn’t know how much of it he remembered. She wondered if he remembered asking to kiss her.

The next day, Logan came with her to the bookstore to get her summer readings.

“You read a lot,” she told him. “What’s _your_ favourite book?”

“Veronica, that is such a mean question to ask to a bibliophile.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like you don’t have one.”

“Fine,” he said while she was paying. “Harry Potter.”

Veronica seemed surprised. “Really? Which one?”

“I can’t pick. Besides, they’re not all out yet.”

“Look at you, 17 and all giddy about a children’s book.”

“The Harry Potter books aren’t just for children!” he exclaimed.

Veronica thanked the cashier and they left the store.

“I’ve seen the first movie,” she offered. “My parents took me to see it when it came out.”

“So you know the basis of the story.”

“Yes. Oh my god, are you one of those people who sorts everyone into Hogwarts houses?” she asked, visibly delighted at the idea.

“Quite obviously, you’re a Slytherin,” he offered.

She looked affronted. “I’m a bad guy?!”

“Slytherins aren’t all bad guys, Veronica. Read the books.”

She ignored him.

“I bet _you_ think you’re a Gryffindor.”

“I _am_ a Gryffindor. Stupidly reckless, chivalrous –” she snorted “- and loyal. And brave, duh.”

Veronica smiled. He was adorable.

“Fine, you’re a Gryffindor. What house is Lilly?”

“A Slytherin too, clearly.”

“Do you put all the girls in Slytherin?”

“No. Just the Slytherins.” He winked.

“Still, Gryffindors hate Slytherins.”

“Not true. The Weasleys hate Slytherins and passed it on to Harry.”

“You are such a nerd.”

“Well then, believe me.”

“Fine, so you don’t hate me.”

“Were you actually entertaining the idea that I hate you? Based on my correct assessment of both our Hogwarts houses?”

“Maybe,” she said innocently.

“You’re fishing for compliments.”

“Am I? Is it working?” she teased.

“Yes. I never hated you, Veronica, and I never will. You’re my favourite person.”

His tone was ironic, but his eyes were honest.

“Good,” Veronica replied.

“You know what that was?”

“What?”

“Cunning. The number one Slytherin characteristic.”

Her jaw dropped.

“No!”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Damn it.”

He laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added the last scene to make the chapter lighter, but I feel the need to note that I referenced Harry Potter because it was a big part of my teen years and I like to think it was a small part in theirs, too, but I in no way support J.K. Rowling or condone her stance on trans rights.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**_Remember when I pulled up and said "Get in the car"_ **

**_And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call_ **

**_Back when I was living for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all_ **

**_"Meet me behind the mall"_ **

“There’s a full moon tonight,” Logan mentioned a few days later.

“Okay?”

“It’s supposed to be pretty gorgeous, reflected on the water. We should go.”

“To the water?” Veronica asked, doubtful.

“Yeah. To the beach.”

“What would we do?”

“What do we do every day?”

“Okay then.”

“It’ll be an adventure.”

She rolled her eyes.

“We’ve been to the beach dozens of times.”

“But in the middle of the night with the full moon reflected on the water?”

“It better be memorable,” she told him, jabbing a finger at him.

He caught her finger and smirked.

“We’ll try.”

“Oh my god it’s so cold,” Veronica shrieked when she dipped her toes in the water.

“You’re in Maine, what did you expect?” Logan laughed.

“Well, a bit warmer than that, if you’re already there up to your knees,” she accused.

He sloshed back towards her and dragged her in.

“Come on!”

“That’s far enough!” Veronica stopped once the water was up to her mid calves, tugging on Logan’s wrist to keep him from continuing without her.

“Look,” Logan simply said, gazing out to the landscape in front of them.

The moon was full and white and it seemed to be glowing, illuminating the otherwise pitch black environment. Its twin was rippling with the water, shining to them. Everything was silent, now that they’d stopped moving, the hum of the waves hugging their calves the only thing they could hear.

“It’s beautiful,” Veronica admitted, not too loud not to break the spell.

“I told you so,” Logan replied, looking at her.

She looked up and had a small smile. He tugged on the hand he was still holding.

“You can go further than that.”

He started pulling her, but she dug her feet into the sand, pulling her weight to her backside as he walked backwards to drag her away from the shallow.

“You know I’m stronger,” he laughed, “so come on before you fall in.”

“You know I have the strongest will,” she argued, pulling harder, laughing too.

She could have just let his hand go and had her way, but she didn’t want to. This was more fun.

Logan opted for another tactic, coming back to her and grabbing her waist to carry her away, and she shrieked, almost forgetting to fight him off because it felt _nice_ to have Logan carrying her like this, she could get used to it.

He spun her around, momentarily forgetting why he’d picked her up in the first place, drizzling saltwater everywhere and they were laughing, laughing, laughing.

Then he put her down, their feet back in the wet sand, their ankles back in the water, and it all came crashing towards them. How Logan’s hands were around Veronica’s waist, how hers were on his shoulders, that if Veronica just moved her hands upwards to grab his face –

She did, bringing him down to her.

And she kissed him.

He was surprised, but it took him only a fraction of a second to respond, his hands moving to the back of Veronica’s head, holding her to him.

And Veronica wondered why she hadn’t kissed Logan before because _wow_ this was very very nice and – oh, okay, it was time to come up for air. She was still holding Logan’s face in her hands, and he was holding hers. Like any of them could crumble or slip into the water if they let go.

“Hi,” she breathed, couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Hi,” he replied, the shadow of a smirk playing on his lips.

And maybe he agreed with her that the kiss had been too short lived, because he dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers again. She gasped and held him closer to her, as close as she possibly could, so he wouldn’t go. _Just stay right here_ , she wanted to communicate. He did.

When she shivered, he broke the kiss. She reached out to grab the back of his neck, like, hey, we’re not done here, but he stopped her with a finger on her lips.

“You’re going to die of hypothermia if you stay in the water without moving.”

“I’m moving!”

“Veronica.”

“Okay.”

He took her hand and they walked wordlessly to the pile of their towels and shoes. There, he sat down and tugged her down with him. She sat between his legs, her back against his chest, and he leaned in so that his face was right above her shoulder, desperately close to her own face. He wrapped his arms around her, warming her, her feet tangled in their towels.

“What would you do if I kissed you now?” he whispered in her ear.

Her heartbeat quickened. He remembered.

“I think, this time, it would count. It would mean something,” she replied carefully, turning her face slightly to look at him.

“I think so too,” he murmured before dropping his lips on hers.

It was slow, comfortable. Like they knew that there would be more, that they didn’t have to pour everything into this one kiss. It was just their mouths, his arms were still around her, her hands holding them in place. All the eloquence they needed, contained in those lips.

“Just to make sure,” Logan spoke up, resting his chin on Veronica’s shoulder and looking at her from the corner of his eyes, “is this a ‘since we’re alone in the dark’ kind of deal or a ‘from now on’ thing?”

“I was going for ‘from now on’.”

“Oh, good.”

He reached up and kissed her cheek.

“Because I really, really like you,” he breathed against her skin.

She lifted a hand up to his head and held him to her tenderly.

“Good,” she echoed.

“Are you glad I convinced you to come out here tonight?”

“Very.”

“Does that mean I’m your boyfriend?” he whispered.

Veronica smiled and she felt like an idiot, but he had the same kind of smile.

“If you want to be,” she replied coyly, like her heart wasn’t beating furiously against her ribcage.

“I want to.”

“Then you’re my boyfriend,” she declared softly, and he kissed the corner of her lips.

“Did you have a nice outing last night?” Keith asked Veronica the next morning when she arrived downstairs.

“Mhmm,” she replied, pouring herself some coffee.

“It is kind of relief Logan isn’t your boyfriend. It’s better to imagine you out late at night with a friend.”

“Um, about that…” she blushed.

“How long have you been dating him?” Keith asked, amused.

“What time is it?”

He looked up at the clock on the wall. “10:15AM.”

“Then roughly nine hours.”

“Oh?”

“It just kind of happened. It was the natural progression of things,” she muttered into her mug.

“You don’t need to justify yourselves, Veronica. I trust that you know what you’re doing.”

She smiled gratefully.

“Hey there, handsome,” she teased when she saw Logan approaching. She was leaning against a tree, waiting for him.

He grinned, then dropped his head down to peck her lips once, twice… Then she kissed him fully and he found himself silly for not having opened with that.

“Hmm… We should have started that earlier,” Veronica said, her arms around his neck.

“Definitely. But also, no. Because it wouldn’t have been as perfect.”

She smiled and kissed him again.

“Do you have anything planned for today?” he asked her.

“No,” she said, her eyes shining, “Just this.”

“Works for me,” and he kissed the tip of her nose. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?”

“Kiss me?”

“Yeah.”

“Do tell,” she asked, putting on a serious face that the gleam in her eyes didn’t quite complete.

“Forever.”

“That’s not true,” she said, shaking her head.

“At least since when I saw you that first day.”

“Either that’s a lie, or it’s kind of creepy.”

“Well, maybe not as much as I want to kiss you _now_ , but I did. And the next day, and the next, more and more the more I knew about you.”

“That’s not true,” she repeated, fighting a smile.

He nodded. “It is very true.”

“I thought you liked being my friend.”

“I did. I do. You’re a great friend. But I also really like kissing you.”

She hummed appreciatively, satisfied by his answer, and brought his mouth back to hers. They had some catching up to do.

A few days later, they were lying lazily under the sun, hidden from the world by the high grass all around them. Logan was on his back, holding his book above his face, his other arm around Veronica, his hand resting on the small of her back.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her at the end of his chapter.

She was on her stomach, half draped across him, drawing shapes he couldn’t guess on his chest and his upper arms through his shirt with the tip of her finger. She tilted her head to look up at him.

“You, obviously,” she said with a cheeky grin.

“What about me?” he continued, a light dancing in his eye.

“I was just thinking… if I kissed you, right now,” she looked directly to him and he nodded, “would you, (a) drop your book and roll around in the grass with me, making out like we’re in a movie – let me finish the choices, Logan!” she exclaimed at his smirk, swatting his chest. “ _(b)_ ,” she said with emphasis, “keep your place in your book with your finger and kiss me back calmly, or (c) be startled and distracted and not really kiss me back because I interrupted your reading.”

“Well, the good news for you is I just finished a chapter, so you wouldn’t be interrupting.”

“So what’s it gonna be, option a or option b?” she asked mischievously, running her finger up his neck.

“I guess you’ll have to find out,” he shrugged, bringing his book back up.

Before he could start reading again though, she turned his jaw towards her and leaned forward to kiss him. He closed the book, putting it down beside them, and wrapped his free arm around her, hungrily molding his lips to hers. It set off little explosions in his stomach, eclipsing everything else.

“That was a nice little in between, not quite _rolling_ around the grass, but nicely making out. Good choice,” she declared when they broke apart, and he shook his head with a bright smile.

“Hey, is this okay?” he asked suddenly.

“Is what okay?”

“Well, these past few days, I’ve kind of been all over you. You know, touching your face and your arms and your waist and your back. Is it, you know… too much? You can tell me.”

“Logan, I’m the one who’s sprawled out all over you.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“This is okay,” she replied, dropping her head to his shoulder. “This is good. I’m not saying I won’t, like, freak out at one point by reflex, but for now, I like this very much,” she assured.

“I wouldn’t say freak out, more like righteously react to something that brings back bad sensory memories.”

“That’s a very politically correct way of putting it,” she snorted.

“I read a lot, remember?”

She laughed, just one exhale. “Yeah. Thank you, though. For asking.”

“Always, bobcat,” he murmured in her hair.

She smiled.

“Do you feel like coming to the mall with me again tomorrow?” Veronica asked into her phone.

“Oh, that’s perfect. I was going to feel bad if we didn’t do anything.”

“Why? We’ve been doing that for a month and a half.”

“I told my mom I had plans with you to get out of her family bonding idea.”

“What was her idea?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I don’t want to spend time with them.”

By “them”, Veronica knew he meant his dad.

“Now your mom is gonna hate me, she’ll think I’m taking her son away.”

“She has me the rest of the year,” Logan pointed out. “My summer is entirely for you.”

Veronica kept forgetting all of it was coming to an end, that it all had a clear expiration date. She felt selfish for spending all her time with Logan, taking that time away from everyone else, but it was also the only way she managed to forget it wouldn’t always be like this. This kind of blissful, calm, existence. She didn’t want to think about it, about after.

“I’ll pick you up, this time,” she told him. “Unless you want your mom to drop you off again?” she smirked, and she knew he saw it even from the other side of the phone.

“Thanks, babe.”

“Whoa, back up, here. _What_ exactly did you just say?”

“I thanked you.”

“The word right after.”

“Babe?”

“Yeah, no.”

“Baby?”

“No.”

“Honey?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Sweet pea?”

“How are you even coming up with these?”

“Darling?”

“… No.”

“You hesitated! You like that one, admit it.”

“If you ever call me that in front of anyone, I’ll kill you.”

“See you tomorrow, darling,” he said, smug.

She hung up and rolled her eyes, fighting a smile.

“Why'd you even bring your car all the way here? You never use it. I don't think I've ever seen you in it,” Veronica asked, looking away from the road to Logan.

“Well, I didn't know I'd be spending my every waking hour with a tiny blonde. I might have needed moody drives and far off getaways to get out of the house without getting bored out of my mind. Also, we always use your car. We could use mine.”

He motioned around them to her old LeBaron.

“I hate the colour of your car,” she replied.

“You know, when you're inside, you can't see it.”

“You can see the hood and the rearview mirrors,” she argued, pointing out of her windshield at the visible black paint of her car.

“Just don't look at them. Look at the gorgeous specimen driving.”

“Is that supposed to be you?”

“Duh.”

Veronica shook her head, almost laughing.

“My mom actually gave me a list too, if you can believe that,” Logan said, showing Veronica a folded piece of paper.

“What does she want you to buy?” Veronica asked, surprised.

He unfolded the note and looked at it.

“Mostly candles and stuff. Essentials, obviously.”

“Of course. Well, do you want to split up and meet back up in an hour or two?”

“You’re breaking up with me, Mars?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Yes, that’s fine. Meet me behind the mall at 3?” he replied.

“Sounds good.”

When Logan arrived to the narrow sidewalk behind the mall, Veronica was already sitting there, an unopened bag of gummy worms in hand.

“I’m getting flashbacks,” Logan told her as he sat down beside her.

“I felt silly buying it, but it reminded me of the last time we were here.”

“The last time we were here, you crushed my heart in pieces,” he said, a joking smile on his lips.

“What?” she asked, laughing.

He opened the bag and contemplated the candy in his hand.

“Picture it. This really great, really cute girl pretends to be dating you and it makes your heart race in your chest when she touches you or mentions you’re dating, even if it’s fake. So you hope maybe, _maybe_ there’s actually something there. Maybe. You know. So when you’re sitting really really close to each other after it all and her face is so close you could kiss her… and then you realize to her it really was all fake… well.”

“That’s why you were acting weird in the car?” she whispered, putting her hand on his knee.

“Yeah. You didn’t know I liked you?” he asked, disbelieving. He thought he’d made it so obvious.

“I just thought that was how you were. I’ve never really seen you interacting with your other friends.”

He hummed.

“Hey, let’s re-enact it. Make it better,” Veronica decided. “How does it start?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

She glared at him.

“Fine, okay. We were sitting a little more apart.”

She moved a few centimetres to the side, then looked up at him expectantly.

“Wait, the bag was more empty than that.”

“Does it matter?” Veronica asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Logan decided. “Either we do this right or not at all.”

“What are you gonna do, eat half a bag of candy in one go?” She rolled her eyes.

“Yes.”

She extended her hand. “Give me some.”

They both stuffed their mouths with candy.

“This is completely ridiculous,” Veronica declared, covering her full mouth. “We’re not even enjoying the candy properly.”

“Good thing I also bought a bag for afterwards.”

“You didn’t.”

He took it out of his pocket. “Sorry. Didn’t think you’d think about it.”

She laughed and took another gummy worm.

“You think that’s good?” she looked inside the bag.

“Seems about right,” Logan said. “Okay, so… you weren’t looking at me. Then I asked you about what you told Piz. And that’s where you looked at me.”

She looked away. “Go, ask.”

“Uh… right, um, are we going to talk about what happened with Piz?”

She looked up at him, on cue.

“And that’s where I wanted to kiss you,” he stage-whispered.

“Do it. Fix the scene,” Veronica whispered back.

He leaned forward and closed his eyes, brushing his lips against hers. She hooked her hand around his neck and pulled him closer, opening her mouth. He brought his arms around her, responding to her touch immediately, instinctively.

“I probably wouldn’t have gone for _that_ for a first kiss with my best friend,” Logan whispered against her lips when they broke apart.

“Coward,” she said, and kissed him again.

“You’re the one who decided to fake-date me before committing.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but couldn’t find anything.

“Do you ever admit someone else is right or do you just shut down when it happens?” Logan teased her.

“Do you ever _not_ comment on something that happens?”

“Stop deflecting,” he challenged, his eyes fixed on hers.

“Stop talking,” she countered and silenced him with her lips.

If those were her methods, he could be persuaded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was one of my favourites to write - I hope it was as enjoyable to read!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're about halfway through now, and I really want to thank everyone who's been following along the past two weeks.  
> I am honestly baffled by the lovely comments I've received throughout, and I appreciate every single one of them. So thank you!!

**Chapter 7**

**_Back when we were still changing for the better,_ **

**_Wanting was enough_ **

“Want to break into the lighthouse?”

“What?” Veronica asked, momentarily forgetting her lunch. “That’s ridiculous.”

“So is that a yes?” he asked, looking expectantly at her across the table.

“Logan Echolls, wipe that smirk off your face, we are not breaking into a lighthouse. In _case_ you didn’t know, breaking and entering is a felony,” she added sarcastically.

“It’ll be fun!”

“Why would we even want to do that?”

“Adventure,” he simply said.

She rolled her eyes and scooped some pasta salad in her mouth.

“Can’t you just bribe someone into opening the lighthouse for you?”

He made a face.

“That takes all the fun away from it.”

“It also takes away most of the illegality,” she pointed out.

“Why are you suddenly against breaking and entering? I know all about your day job during the school year, Veronica Mars.”

“Why did I tell you about that again?”

“Because you _know_ espionage is sexy, and you wanted to impress me.”

“That must be it,” Veronica replied. “And I’m not ‘suddenly against breaking and entering’. I just have principles, and only break and enter when there is some valuable information to be found.”

“What if I told you the records of the intentional sinking of a luxury cruise from decades ago were to be found in the lighthouse?”

“I’d say you were lied to because that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“But if it were true, would you do some light breaking and entering with your favourite boyfriend?”

“I can’t have a favourite boyfriend if I only have one boyfriend to start with,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Sure you can. It just comes with the downside of me _also_ being your least favourite boyfriend. So?”

“So what?”

“If it were true –”

“Well, yeah, probably,” Veronica replied, poking at her food.

“Okay, so I have some really great news, did you know that the lighthouse houses records of –”

Veronica rolled her eyes but laughed despite herself.

“What’s your plan?” she asked with a sigh, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips.

Logan beamed at her.

“This is such a stupid idea,” Veronica breathed against Logan’s neck.

They were hidden in a bush near the lighthouse, watching the door. It had been almost an hour, and still no one had shown.

“Are you sure there are people working in the lighthouse?”

“Yes.”

“ _How_?” Veronica pressed on, digging her fingers into his arm.

“I see the same guy leave every day at the same time.”

“Why do you look at the lighthouse every day at the same time?” she hissed.

“I’m a bored rich boy, remember?”

“Well he’s obviously not here today at the same time.”

“He’ll come.”

“What if he left before we even got here? And what do we do if he does show up?”

“Sneak in before he locks the door.”

“ _That’s_ your plan?” she asked incredulously. “There’s no way in hell that’s gonna work.”

“There he comes!” Logan whispered excitedly.

“Okay, change of plans. Shut up and stay here. And give me one of those branches at your feet.”

Logan widened his eyes at her but did as he was told. Veronica stuffed the necklace she was wearing into her pocket, hid the branch in her jacket, and pinched her cheeks to make them red.

She took a deep breath, then started fake sobbing in what Logan thought was a very convincing manner, and walked out towards the man who had just gotten out of the lighthouse.

“Sir?” she sobbed, approaching him with false hesitance.

He looked surprised to see her.

“Miss Mars? Is everything all right?”

She shook her head and broke down in tears, under Logan’s impressed watch.

“I lost my necklace,” she said, putting her hand on her neck. “I always wear it, it was a gift from my best friend, and now it’s gone,” she hiccupped.

Parts of that were true. She _did_ always wear the necklace and it _was_ a gift from Lilly. And technically, it _was_ gone from her neck.

“I was in the lighthouse earlier today with my dad,” she explained, “I think I might have lost it there.” She took a deep breath, as if to steady her ragged breath, and wiped her face. Logan didn’t know she was such a good actress. “Do you think I could have a look inside?” she finally asked, her wide blue eyes on the man.

“I’m not supposed to,” the man grumbled, then hesitated. “Ach, come on, let’s look for that necklace of yours.”

He opened the door and she thanked him profusely.

About ten minutes later, Logan saw them resurface and Veronica was thanking the man again, her necklace now back around her neck.

The man left, and Veronica’s false expression changed, a mischievous smile now gracing her features. She motioned for Logan to come out of hiding.

“The door locks automatically when it closes,” she explained. “You need a key to open it from outside, but you don’t have to linger to lock the door behind you. Especially not if, say, a charming young blonde goes through the door after you.”

“Okay…? I’m not sure I understand.”

She walked to the door and showed him the branch he’d given her, resting between the door and its frame, keeping it slightly ajar.

“How did he not notice that?” Logan mused.

Veronica shrugged. “It was dark, and his attention was elsewhere, I imagine. So, hey… Do you really want to go in there? I’ve seen it, and it’s nothing special,” she teased, her hands curling around his waist to bring him closer.

“Hm, yeah, maybe this whole thing was overrated,” Logan played along, placing his hands on her hips. “We could just stay right there and have sex on the beach.”

“So very tempting,” Veronica replied with a smirk. “Now, come on, I didn’t do all this work for nothing.”

They turned to the door, about to walk inside, but just then, the branch snapped and the door slammed shut. They remained stunned a few seconds, until Veronica said, dryly: “Sex on the beach it is.” And they both dissolved in laughter.

It was completely dark out, save for the occasional sweep of light from the lighthouse and the twinkle of the stars in the far-off sky, and their plan for the night had just fallen through.

“Should we just call it a day and go home?” Logan asked, disappointed, once he had calmed his laughter.

“I didn’t know you to give up so easily,” Veronica remarked. “We came all the way here in the middle of the night, and I made up an awesome excuse for my dad, I might as well use it. Even if he probably doesn’t believe it.”

“Alright then.”

He dropped to the sand and pulled her down on top of him. She laughed softly and got settled beside him, in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

He placed lazy, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, holding her tenderly. His hands were well-behaved, resting sagely around her waist, but she could feel his desire oozing out of his pores.

“Logan?”

“Hm?”

“I… I’m not ready to… you know.”

He pulled away, still close by, still warm, but making sure he wasn’t touching her anymore.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to –”

“No, no, this is fine.” She tangled their fingers together and pulled him back close to her, as if to demonstrate. “I just don’t want to lead you on or anything.”

“Veronica, I was just joking, earlier. You don’t have to sleep with me. Not now, not ever. I’ll take whatever you give me, in whatever quantities, whenever you give it. _If_ ever. You’re not leading me on. That sounds like what a sketchy dude would accuse a woman of doing when she doesn’t return his advances.”

He traced his finger along her lips. “Okay?” he asked.

“So you _don’t_ want to sleep with me.”

“Veronica –” Her gaze was still on him, unwavering, so he took a breath. “Well – I mean – sure,” he stammered. “I’d like to. But I don’t want to if you’re not ready or aren’t as willing and enthusiastic as me about it, you know? I want you to be _comfortable_ with me. That’s all that matters.”

His answer seemed to please her, because she nodded and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

They looked up to the stars almost as one.

A few days later, Veronica was sitting in the high grass, book in hand and notebook propped on her lap, clicking her pen absently. Logan reached over to her, chin on her shoulder, one hand on her stomach and the other reaching to her hand to drop the pen on the notebook.

“Stop clicking,” he said softly before pressing a kiss to her neck.

She nodded absently, keeping her focus on her book. He continued the light trail down her neck, to her clavicle, placing light kisses.

“Logan, I’m trying to focus,” she muttered.

It was his turn to nod silently, and he stayed at her shoulder, reading along. When his fingers skimmed along the soft exposed skin of her stomach, she snapped her book shut and looked at him, frustrated.

“Logan, oh my god, keep it in your pants.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, affronted, pulling away.

“I’m trying to study and all you want to do is make out or – or whatever!” she exclaimed.

“Don’t you think maybe that’s a bit ironic coming from you? The girl who’s always all over me when I’m reading?”

“That’s different! This,” she said, picking up her book in demonstration, “is for school. It’s important.”

“Oh, so the fact that I want to read and maybe focus on what I’m reading isn’t important?”

“Why don’t you just say so then?”

“I may be distracted by the fact that my girlfriend is kissing me, maybe?”

“Which brings us back to the first point,” she said sardonically.

He shook his head, eyes down and disbelieving. He stood up, and she followed suit, book still in hand and the rest falling to the ground.

“You know, I thought you trusted me,” he said. “Guess not.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

Tears were threatening to spill in her eyes, and Veronica wouldn’t let them.

“That night at the beach. I meant what I told you, Veronica. And you should trust me to respect that. I trusted you with basically everything in my life!”

“I trusted you with things I’ve never told anyone!” she exclaimed, practically screaming.

“Then why don’t you _trust_ me to respect that? Why do you accuse me of being basically a sexual predator?”

“I _never_ said such a thing,” she accused, jabbing her finger at him. “I don’t have good experiences and you _know_ that. And you know how hard it was for me to share that. Why would this be any different?”

“Why would –” He passed his hand through his hair, turning around to try to channel everything he was feeling, before coming back to face her. “Because I love you, Veronica, don’t you _know_ that? I love you, okay? I love you. I would never let anything happen to you as long as I can help it.”

He was somewhere between screaming at her and softly looking into her eyes, and Veronica felt like he had punched her in the gut.

“What?” she asked, her voice empty but still loud. Her mind completely blanked.

“I –” he sighed. “Look, you heard me.” All the courage he’d gathered to confess had flickered out.

“It doesn’t excuse anything –” Veronica started, losing track of her anger and her thoughts. “Just… go.”

Logan nodded, biting his lip, and turned on his heel. Seeing him walk away, Veronica immediately regretted telling him to leave, but was too proud to admit it. She plopped back down in the grass, her head in her hands, and tried to gather her thoughts. Everything was swirling in her mind, it had all gone so fast, she was irritated and annoyed and Logan hadn’t helped but maybe she’d gone a little too far… Then again, so had he.

And then… he’d told her he loved her. That was not what she had expected. And certainly not in that moment. It was a horrible moment to say such a thing. Almost like a trap to guilt her into forgetting everything else. Did he mean it? Did he know, really, what it meant? Was Logan in love with her? She shook her head to keep the tears pooling in her eyes from streaking down her cheeks. It didn’t make sense. They had barely been dating for two weeks.

What Logan thought he felt… whatever it was, it had made him listen to her when she told him to go away without explaining why. She wasn’t sure if it meant he cared too much or too little.

Logan rubbed his face in both his hands, sighing loudly. He’d gone back towards his house – well, the general property on which the residence sat – when Veronica had told him to leave her alone, and hadn’t moved from his spot on the edge of the cliff, looking out at the water, in hours. The sun was already set, and he knew it meant he had been outside and practically still for much longer than reasonable.

When his mother walked out of the house and all the way to him, he barely looked up.

“Honey, are you okay?” she asked softly, kneeling beside him and putting a hand to his shoulder.

Logan wanted to tell her, but he also really, really didn’t. She never came to check on him when he was away for hours after receiving a beating. Why would he confide in her when she bothered to show up if she always avoided the touchy subjects?

So he shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“That doesn’t tell me _you_ ’re fine,” Lynn said softly, settling down beside him.

He still hadn’t looked at her. He was looking down at his hands or out to the sea, but not at her worried glance. She wasn’t wrong. He had carefully avoided telling her about his own state of mind.

“It’s just… don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I’m your mother, that’s my job,” she replied, stroking his back.

He thought it was ironic she would say that while touching his back, knowing how meticulously she avoided worrying about what happened back there, what had been happening there for as long as he could remember.

He checked his phone, to see if Veronica had called or replied. Nothing. He had called her several times, after leaving her alone for two or three hours. He sighed. Was that going to be how she would play it, ignore him until the end of the summer? No explaining, just goodbye, it was nice knowing you, you’re out of my life? No proper break up?

Logan always knew it was more to him than it was to Veronica. She was his best friend; hers was Lilly. She was his favourite person in his life; hers was her father. He loved her, and Veronica was too smart to fall in love with someone she'd have to leave within three months. Still, he'd held on to the idea that it was _something_ to her too, something that mattered, something she'd want to keep. Something she'd be willing to fight more than five seconds for.

But when it came to her own stubbornness and need to always be right, Logan could only lose.

She’d told him to leave, so he had. He didn’t know what it meant, if he’d apparently agreed to go _forever_ , but it certainly hadn’t been his intention. He felt his mother’s gaze still on him, and he looked up for the first time.

“She broke up with you?” Lynn asked, still stroking his back. She didn’t know much about him and Veronica, but she knew he had a girlfriend he’d met in Clatham Cove.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, looking back down at his phone.

If his answer puzzled her, she didn’t show it.

“What did you do?” she asked, but there was no animosity to her voice.

“Why does it have to be me?” he retorted.

“It’s always both people if you’re sad like this. If it was just her, you’d be angry. I know what you look like when you’re angry. Now you’re defeated. You did something you want to take back, but you still haven’t forgiven her for something _she_ did. Or said,” Lynn added after a pause.

“I screwed up, she said something mean, I went too far, she went too far, something slipped out, she told me to leave, and I did. That’s it. The whole story.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

He hesitated. He didn’t want to blab about Veronica’s secrets and the story wouldn’t make much sense without them. He shook his head.

“You should tell _her_ about it.”

“What is there to say? She’s dodging my calls. Again.”

“Go see her tomorrow.” She tapped her son lightly on the chest and stood up. “Tell her how you feel. You don’t have to address everything that was said. Just the feelings. And come back inside soon, okay? This won’t do you any good.”

She smiled sadly at her son and walked inside.

Talk about the feelings. That sure was easier said than done with Veronica Mars.

Nevertheless, Logan didn’t pay Veronica any additional calls that night, and set off to talk to her the next day. The first place he checked was where he’d left her the previous day, which he realized was kind of stupid, because she had obviously not stayed outside overnight. Then, he went to the place he’d found her the previous time they’d fought (well, she’d fought, he’d been confused, but for all intents and purposes he called it a fight), by the decrepit treehouse. He couldn’t say why, but he wasn’t surprised to find her there. He wordlessly sat down beside her, and she didn’t look up from her book. The same book as the previous day, he noticed.

After several minutes of this, he broke the silence. “Are you going to talk to me?”

“No,” she replied, jotting down something in her notebook.

Suddenly he felt his anger flare up. “Are we really doing this? We’re doing this again?”

She snapped her book shut and looked at him, her eyes throwing daggers. “ _What_.”

“Are you five years old, Veronica? Can you deal with problems in another way than running away from them and pretending they don’t exist?”

He knew he was mean, and he was not at all doing what his mother had suggested, but he didn’t care.

“Is that how you want to treat me?” he continued. “Just another problem to run away from? Were you just going to ignore me for the rest of the summer, avoid me and pretend I didn’t exist anymore? My ex-girlfriend cheated on me and it was a classier breakup than this,” he spat.

“Do you even know the concept of giving someone space?” she replied, just as angry. “I just need time and space to… to process. Can you even give me that? Or is it so impossible to feel for just one day that the world does not revolve around you and what _you_ want to do?”

“You didn’t answer the question,” he replied, his tone hard.

“ _No_. I wasn’t going to do that. I was going to call you, but just not _now_. I was going to call you, or go find you, I don’t know, when I was calm enough and had processed everything because I didn’t want another screaming match with you!” she screamed. Welp, so much for that. “And what about you,” she continued, calmer, but still visibly angry, “why don’t _you_ answer the question.”

“I know how to give someone space, it’s just usually easier to receive when I didn’t just tell someone I love them,” Logan grumbled, the sharp edge slowly dribbling out of his voice.

“That was really bad timing,” Veronica replied, her anger morphing into something softer, like… amusement, maybe? Logan couldn’t tell.

“I realized.”

“I’m sorry.”

Logan looked up at Veronica.

“You are?”

“Well, yeah. I was on edge and irritated and you did this tiny thing and I laid all my frustration on you.”

“I shouldn’t have said those things either. I know trust doesn’t come naturally to you, and I’m trying to be worthy of it. I shouldn’t push you like that.”

“I trust you,” Veronica said quietly, lifting Logan’s chin with her index finger. “You make me act very unnaturally,” she added with a smirk.

“My bad boy tendencies are rubbing off on you?” Logan enquired, matching her smirk.

“I don’t know, maybe I haven’t quite been in contact with you enough to know for sure. Hold on, let me try.”

Her finger was still under his chin, and she added her thumb to pinch his chin and bring his face to hers. She kissed him, and gave a small hum of approval.

“Yep, it seems like you’re transmitting me a whole lot of bad boy.”

He smiled and put his hands on either side of her face.

“Are we okay?” he asked.

“We’re okay.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I’m still sorry too.”

“And I still love you. And you don’t have to say anything at all,” he added quickly. “I just think I should tell you at least once without yelling at you.”

She kissed him softly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**_Your back beneath the sun_ **

**_Wishing I could write my name on it_ **

Hanging out with Logan as his girlfriend was very similar to hanging out with Logan as his only friend in town, Veronica decided. There was just a lot more kissing. And a lot more cuddling for no good reason. But it was still the same playful, fun relationship they’d had before, with maybe some added depth to it. So when the weather forecast announced a rainy day, Veronica did the same thing she’d done the previous time: she invited Logan over to spend the day at her house. What she hadn’t banked on was that her father would be exponentially more interested in getting to know Logan now that he was dating his daughter.

When Logan got there, thankfully before the drizzle became a downpour, Veronica greeted him at the door with a chaste kiss and a whispered warning.

“It looks like my dad wants to do some bonding activities with us, or something.”

“Hey, I get it,” he answered, dropping a kiss on her forehead, “I’d want to know who you were dating, too.”

She made a face at him, like, _that doesn’t make any sense_ , and he smirked, raising an eyebrow, defying her to call him out.

“Whatever,” she said, leading him to the living room.

“Ah, Logan!” Keith greeted him. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Mr. Mars,” Logan replied, nodding his head politely. “Thank you for letting me crash here on rainy days.”

The last time he’d talked to Veronica’s father, he had been looking all over town for Veronica, and it was all before they were dating. He had seemed pretty trusting then, but since that day he’d started kissing his daughter regularly and had had a fight with her Keith had probably heard all about, so Logan was unsure what his standing with the Mars patriarch was.

“Um, do you want to play cards?” Veronica asked nervously, thinking it was probably a safe start for her father and boyfriend to get used to each other.

“Sure, that sounds good,” Logan said, awkwardly sitting down beside her on the couch.

Keith produced a deck of cards and placed it on the coffee table, then leaned back in his armchair. Veronica groaned. He couldn’t possibly be serious.

“Really, dad? You don’t have normal cards?” she asked, picking up the Cards Against Humanities deck from where he had placed it. She would rather have gone spelunking than let Logan and her father play Cards Against Humanity together. She wasn’t ready for that kind of embarrassment quite yet.

“It was just a suggestion,” Keith replied innocently, and Veronica widened her eyes at him, communicating as much as she could with one glare. “Fine,” he finally said. “I don’t think we have standard cards, but I do have Uno.”

He leaned over the side of his armchair to fetch the deck and Veronica smiled sarcastically. This day would be longer than she’d expected.

“How are you holding up?” Veronica asked Logan in a whisper when her father went to the kitchen to check up on lunch.

“Veronica, this isn’t as bad as you think it is, I promise. I’m kind of having fun,” he shrugged, rubbing her back gently. “Relax.”

Keith had been asking Logan all kinds of questions about himself, avoiding the subject of his parents, like Veronica had told him, all morning. Every question had Veronica on edge, ready to jump in at any time, but so far she hadn’t really needed to. Her father had stayed in the shallow end, not asking what Logan’s intentions were with his daughter or anything else that would have made Veronica want to crawl into the floor.

“So, Logan,” Keith said when he came back into the room, and Veronica took a deep breath to calm herself like Logan had said, “Veronica tells me you drive a yellow car.”

Veronica looked at him like he had suddenly grown a full head of hair. _What kind of question is that?_

“Uh, yeah. I do. An Xterra.”

“And why yellow?” Keith enquired, seeming genuinely interested. Veronica had asked herself that question many times before but had settled for the fact that yellow was ridiculously exuberant and flashy, like Logan liked to project. She hadn’t ever actually asked Logan about it.

Logan looked a bit taken aback by the question, like it wasn’t a question he was used to, being asked about his choice of colour for his car. Which was reasonable, Veronica thought.

“I, uh…” he shot a cringing Veronica a quick amused look. “I don’t know, it’s a happy colour. Easy to spot in a parking lot, too. Too easy to spot, according to some,” he added, looking meaningfully at Veronica.

“Does she not like your car?” Keith asked, but he was looking at his daughter with a smile. The smile he always had when he knew he was being mildly annoying.

Veronica smiled sarcastically as Logan bit back a laugh. “She has expressed that opinion a few times. Of course, she’s never actually been _in_ it,” he said, looking at Veronica again.

“Stop ganging up on me,” she muttered, elbowing Logan and shooting her father a death glare.

“Your dad’s nice,” Logan declared.

They were sitting cross legged on the floor of her bedroom, that afternoon. Veronica made sure there was no physical contact between them, because her father could come by any minute, and in her room was a whole other story from the living room, in front of him. She’d even been surprised he’d _let_ them go to her room. Then again, they spent all their days together, mostly alone, so their lack of access to her bedroom didn’t pose a real challenge. Plus, he’d been to her room before. Even slept in her bed, although thankfully her father was not aware of that.

“I’m glad you think so. You handled him well,” she replied, moving her pawn along three spaces on the board and drawing a card. “Look at that, I’m going to jail,” she sighed.

“Do they allow conjugal visits?”

“I don’t think Maine has those. I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t qualify even if they did.”

“Why not?”

“It may have something to do with the fact that you’re not, you know, my spouse.”

“A technicality.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Why do you know about conjugal visits in Maine, anyway?”

“My mom went to jail one summer, a few years ago. Not for long,” she said quickly at his widened eyes. “But it got me thinking. And I did some digging about the incarceration system here. I needed a hobby.”

“Thank god _I_ got here, or you’d be reading up on ancient sacrifice rituals by now.”

“Who says I haven’t already mastered that?” she asked, leaning in over the board game.

“Oh, man, is this a trap I’m falling straight into?”

“It just might be,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“Darn,” he whispered under his breath and brushed his lips to hers.

He caught her hands in the air before she managed to get them around his neck.

“I thought we weren’t doing that, Mars?” he said teasingly, mischief in his eyes.

She groaned and stuck out her tongue at him. “Fine.”

How had she managed to keep her hands off him for a month and a half, again? It seemed like a completely foreign concept just then.

Logan broke eye contact to roll the dice.

“Well shit. Looks like I’m going to jail, too.”

“Are you staying for dinner, Logan?” Keith asked, popping his head into Veronica’s room just as they were putting away their game.

“I was about to head home, actually. The rain isn’t too bad right now, and my mom expects me.”

Keith nodded. “Well then, drive safe. It was nice having you.”

He extended his hand to Logan, who shook it with a nod and a tight, slightly awkward smile.

“I think your dad likes me,” Logan told Veronica when said dad was gone.

“Good. Stay on his good side,” she replied, tapping him on the chest on her way to the door.

“If I kiss you goodbye, do you think I’ll leave his good side?” he asked, smirking, as they were walking down the stairs.

She shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to see if you want to risk it or not.”

“Better not, then,” he declared cheekily, and opened the front door to walk out. “See you tomorrow, Veronica!” he called out while getting into his car, way too proud of himself.

“How come I’ve never seen you swim?” Logan asked two days later.

“You can say ‘how come I’ve never seen you in a skimpy swimsuit’, we both know you’re thinking it,” Veronica replied with a smirk.

“Well, _now_ I am.”

She raised her eyebrows at him enticingly. “Why would you have seen me swim?”

“Because we’ve been in a beach town for like two months?”

“So? We’ve been in a coastal town in Maine for like two months and we haven’t had crab, or lobster.”

“I’m allergic to shellfish,” Logan pointed out. “As far as I know, _you_ aren’t allergic to water.”

“You don’t know everything about me, Echolls,” she replied with a grin.

He rolled his eyes.

“Hey, that’s my move!” Veronica exclaimed.

He ignored her. “I know for a fact you’re not allergic to water. Or even saltwater.”

“How is that?”

“The first time you kissed me, I had to practically drag you out of the water.”

“You had to practically drag me in it, too.”

“So, what, you can’t swim?”

“I grew up in a Californian choice spring break destination. Of course I can swim.”

“What is it, then? You don’t like the water?”

“Why is this about me? I haven’t seen _you_ swim either,” she accused, playfully. “For all I know, you’re diverting attention from yourself so you won’t have to admit you can’t swim.”

“Veronica, I spend my free time back home surfing.”

“Well, yeah, but the surfboard creates a barrier between you and the water, you don’t have to know how to swim.”

“I assure you, you do.” He cocked his head and looked at her with amusement. “You’ve never been surfing?”

“Is that, like, something you think everyone does?”

“Well, maybe not _everyone_ , but the people who grow up in a… what was it? A Californian choice spring break destination, yeah.”

“Sorry to let you down. No surfing experience here.”

“Let’s go to the beach,” Logan declared.

“We _are_ on the beach,” Veronica said, chucking sand at him to demonstrate.

“First of all, that was mean,” he said, chucking some sand back at her. “Second, I mean a real beach. Where we can surf. With little beachside restaurants. So I could take you out on a real date.”

“The crowds of tourists, their noise, the impossibility to find a spot to lay down a towel… That sure sounds heavenly,” she replied, sarcastic.

“Please, Veronica? Our three-week anniversary is two days away.”

“No one celebrates three-week anniversaries, Logan. That’s kind of pathetic.”

“They should. Especially when they only have three other weeks ahead of them before they have to leave the state.”

She smiled at him, trying not to roll her eyes. “Okay.”

He beamed at her. “Then, Thursday, we’ll drive up to a real beach. In _my_ car because yours can’t hold my surfboard.”

“Sure it can.”

He kissed the tip of her nose.

“Let’s say this: your present to me is that you agree to come in my car, and my present to you is taking you out on a real date for dinner. Classic three-week anniversary gifts.”

“You don’t need to take me out on a real date,” she protested.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” he asked, falsely indignant.

She didn’t answer, deciding to grab his shirt and bring him forward to kiss her instead.

“It’s even more yellow up close. I think I’m going to go blind.”

“Pop on your sunglasses and call it sunbathing,” Logan told her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Also, the seats are too high,” Veronica added, hoisting herself up on the passenger seat under Logan’s amused look.

“Your car is a piece of junk,” Logan pointed out, starting the ignition. “Every time I’m in there, I’m scared it’ll break down.”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“So is everything you say about my car.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. It is pretty comfortable on the inside.”

“And will you look at that backseat?” he teased, backing up from the driveway.

“I see many hours of making out in that backseat in our future,” Veronica nodded.

“Really?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Wouldn’t you feel trapped, making out in a car?”

“Not with you.”

She fought a smile.

Veronica had to admit, there was something exhilarating about their day trip to what she liked to refer to as the tourist trap. She was on her towel, reading one of her summer homework books, lounging and occasionally looking to see if she could spot Logan in the waves. Given that his wetsuit was black, like most other surfers, and that he was too far away for her to recognize his face, it was nearly impossible to do so. Still, she tried periodically, if only because the idea that her boyfriend was a surfer was kind of hot.

She felt somewhat grown up in this environment, like she was taking a fancy vacation with her boyfriend when in reality they’d driven half an hour and would be home by night, her father waiting up for her. It was strange, to be that girl, if only in a self-invented illusion. But not unpleasant. It emboldened her.

So when Logan walked up to her, still dripping wet, surfboard under his arm and wetsuit lowered at the waist, she smiled at him sweetly.

“You took your shirt off,” he remarked flatly.

“Very astute observation,” Veronica replied, her smile taunting him.

He settled his surfboard down. “So, you coming to the water?”

“What other reason would I have to take my shirt off?” she asked innocently, very aware of the effect she was having on Logan and trying very hard not to smirk.

“Can’t think of one,” he replied weakly, extending his hand to help her up.

She took his hand and then shimmied out of her shorts, keeping her eyes on him as he was trying to look as detached as possible. He was failing, and she smacked his chest.

“I’m not a piece of meat, mister,” she teased, whispering in his ear and trailing her fingers down his chest.

“Veronica…” Her name sounded guttural, warm, coming from him. “You _have_ to stop doing that to me.”

“Doing what?” she asked, taking a step backwards from him and towards the water. “So, are you coming or what?”

“Or what,” he muttered, following her to the water.

It was warmer than the water at Clatham Cove had been at night, but not by much.

“Why are so many people enjoying this? It’s freezing!” Veronica exclaimed when she was knee high into the water.

“Because they swim. Warms them up,” Logan answered, taking her hand and pulling her towards deeper waters.

“Damn, who would’ve thought,” she replied, faking thoughtfulness, stroking her chin.

They’d reached water deep enough for them to have to swim to, well, not _drown_ , so Veronica let go of Logan’s hand and started slowly swimming away. Far enough from other swimmers, and carefully away from the surfers, it was peaceful, the sound of the waves and the wind louder than the chatter of everyone else. Logan caught up to Veronica, weaving his arms around her stomach and pressing his lips to her shoulder.

“Careful, man, you’re going to make me drown,” Veronica laughed, turning to face him. “You wouldn’t want to be accused of your girlfriend’s murder, now would you?”

“I’d rather not,” he conceded, then pushed away the wet strands of hair sticking to her forehead before kissing it.

She placed her arms around him, and the closeness made her accidentally kick him as they were both trying to stay afloat.

He laughed, his laugh low and soft, then asked, “Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask,” she murmured, surprised by the request.

“It’s nice to make sure, periodically,” he shrugged and brought their mouths together.

“Mhmm, there is a certain gentlemanliness to it,” Veronica nodded against him.

“Exactly,” Logan agreed, brushing his lips against hers.

“Hey, Logan, you’re strong, right?”

“Uh, I guess so, why?” he asked, still against her lips.

“Keep us to the surface,” she breathed, and before he could ask what she meant, she wrapped her legs around his waist and took his face in her hands, kissing him deeply.

It took him a second to adjust, groaning at the sudden weight on his hips, but he placed his hands on her back – it would have been easier if he could have one holding her up under her behind, but he didn’t know how she’d react to that – and responded to her kiss hungrily, beating his legs to stay to the surface. When his fingers grazed the knot holding her bikini in place, he moved them down immediately. _That_ was way too tempting. Veronica panted and looked into his eyes.

“You look like someone who wants to get some.”

Where was that coming from? She sounded more amused than annoyed, like she was teasing him, waiting to see what reaction she could get out of him. Whatever it was, giving Veronica that surge of boldness, he liked it.

“Get some hot and heavy making out with a cute blonde? Definitely,” he deflected.

She rolled her eyes but smiled, and pulled him to her again. She felt ridiculous, so needy and clinging to him so tightly, but _damn_ kissing Logan felt really good…

“Are your legs killing you right now?” she asked when she pulled away.

“Yes,” he said, a twinkle in his eye and a smile at the corner of his lips, “but it’s a pretty nice way to go.”

He dropped his lips to hers once more, but she stopped him soon and untangled herself from him.

“I don’t want to carry you back to shore,” she declared, adjusting the straps of her bikini.

“Hm, why? That sounds great.”

“You’re too heavy,” she pronounced, shooting him a look from above her shoulder before swimming back towards the shore in long strokes.

“Bet I can get there before you anyway,” he countered, launching into a swim of his own.

“You’re on!”

Who had won was a bit of a tossup, because Veronica maintained it was cheating to tackle her when she tried to move from swimming to walking, and Logan maintained instead that there had been no rules so nothing was cheating.

“Objectively, I got to our towels before you,” Logan pointed out.

“Objectively, you splashed that poor little old lady when you tackled me. Your ‘victory’ is tainted with not only cheating, but also harming of innocents.”

He snorted. “That’s never been known to bother me.”

Veronica rolled onto her side to look at Logan, who was lying on his chest.

“It looks like it healed well,” she said quietly, passing her hand down his back.

He breathed out, shallow. “Yeah. It’s fine now.”

There were still harsh marks, scars Veronica knew would probably never go, but the skin itself was mended. She tenderly ran her fingers along them, before placing a kiss on the sun-kissed skin.

“What are you doing?” Logan asked.

“Replacing the memories,” she simply said, and he closed his eyes as she continued to trail light kisses along his back.

“I can’t believe there isn’t a single public bathroom along this stupid beach,” Veronica muttered. “I mean, really! It’s like they _want_ people to pee in the ocean.”

“Veronica, it’s not that big a deal, you can get changed in the back of the car. I’ll put the towels against the windows, no one will see you.”

“It’s a question of principle,” she argued, and he rolled his eyes.

“Keep complaining, and the towel offer is gone.”

“Fine.”

When they reached his Xterra, Veronica slipped into the backseat and Logan passed her her change of clothes from the trunk.

“You know,” he said from where he was standing guard outside, “we still have half an hour to kill before our reservation.”

She opened the door and looked up at him from where she was sitting, now fully clothed. “Come on in, then.”

He widened his eyes but obliged, sliding in after her and closing the car door behind himself. The restaurant he had chosen wasn’t especially fancy (with the shellfish allergy restriction, the selection wasn’t very big anyway), but they had still decided that showing up in their beachwear would not quite have cut it. Veronica had opted for a simple sundress, which surprised him, because she wasn’t much of a dress person, usually. Logan had pants, somewhere in the car, ready for him, but it seemed that Veronica was more ready, because she climbed onto his lap and kissed him.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to make out in the backseat of my car,” Logan noted.

“Changed my mind,” she breathed against his lips, and he couldn’t bring himself to mind, so he grabbed the back of her head and kissed her deeply, passionately. How was it that every time he kissed Veronica, it got better? There was something addictive about it, about the taste of her lips and the feel of her skin. It was raw and hypnotizing, taking every molecule in his body, making every single one of them pay attention to Veronica against him. Maybe it was related to how he fell more in love every second he spent in her presence, the thrill of that knowledge ringing in his heart, taking control of his entire body.

“Do you have any plans this weekend?” Veronica heaved, panting, pulling away from the searing kiss.

“I don’t know why you keep asking me that, you know my only plans are always whatever you have planned,” he smirked, running his hand up and down her back, trying to calm her so that her breath would even out.

She took a few breaths and settled back a little, still straddling him, but not so close to his face that she couldn’t think of anything besides kissing him. She ran a hand through her hair to tame the wild strands that had escaped her loose bun, his had found a resting place on her waist, the skirt of her dress draped around their legs.

“My dad has to go out of town this weekend, some business with a case,” she eventually said.

He nodded, letting her continue. She seemed anxious.

“So I’m out of a car for two days,” she said, and gave a little laugh, but it sounded nervous. “And, um. If you… I mean, if we, um.” She hesitated, trying to look for a way to formulate what she had to say, not looking him in the eye. He nodded again, encouraging her to tell him. “You could, uh. You could spend the night. At home. With me. If you’d like.”

She looked up to him, chewing on her lower lip, and it seemed like she was staring directly into his soul, blue eyes wide open to him. Possibly as vulnerable and open as he’d ever seen her, or at least as vulnerable as she’d ever let him _see_. He had _heard_ her more vulnerable, once upon a time, sharing secrets and scars, but she hadn’t been looking at him. This time, she was gazing intently at him, waiting for his answer.

“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?” Logan whispered. He knew no one could hear them, regardless of how loud he talked, from the comfort and privacy of his car, but this felt intimate. It felt like it needed to be whispered. He put his hand on her cheek, and she leaned into it, capturing it between her shoulder and her cheek.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

Veronica nodded. “I mean, I don’t know what I’ll be ready for, not really. But… yeah.”

“Okay. And hey, if we get there and you want to play cards all night, that’s okay too.”

She smiled at him, then took his face in her hands. “That’s why I want it to be you,” she said, so silently he almost didn’t hear. He closed his eyes and dropped a kiss on her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered into her ear as he hugged her close to him. He felt her smile against his shoulder, and the way she squeezed him harder to her chest. That was enough.

“Does that mean next time you change in the car I can stay inside?” he joked.

She rolled her eyes and hit him lightly on the chest, pulling away to look at him with a scandalized expression. He laughed.

“Don’t worry, bobcat, I’ll let you keep your privacy.”

He kissed her shoulder and gently lifted her off him.

“I’ve got to get changed too. Wanna stay?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes again. “You are so not smooth. You know, just because you add some eyebrow action, doesn’t make it more attractive.”

“Thankfully for me, there are no other guys around to be smoother.”

“You know I’d choose you anyway, right?” she asked, suddenly serious again, her hands on his shoulders.

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Yes.”

“There’s no shellfish in any of this, right?” Veronica made sure. “He’s allergic.”

“No, Miss, but we’ll be extra careful.”

“Thank you.”

The waiter took their menus and left, and Veronica turned back to Logan.

“What?” she asked when she saw his smile.

“Nothing. It’s cute.”

“Cute?”

He nodded, knowing very well _cute_ was not a word she liked used to describe her. Right there along with feisty and all other possible references to the fact that she was short and seemingly unthreatening. But this time it really did fit. It was cute that she worried, cute that she cared. A part of him wanted to clarify, but another preferred riling her up, just a little. It was a dangerous game, one he perhaps shouldn’t have been playing, but he was a gambler.

She narrowed her eyes at him, making his resolve waiver. He couldn’t hold on very long, and he eventually gave a small laugh and put his hand on hers on the table.

“It’s _cute_ that you’re being careful like that for me. _You_ aren’t cute,” he added, knowing it would both appease and slightly offend her.

“I’m not cute?”

Logan noticed the look on the waiter’s face when he brought their drinks, and almost burst out laughing. The poor guy probably thought he was butting into an awkward fight between a couple and obviously did not want any part of it. It delighted Logan to see it and it made him want to press further.

“That’s not the word, I’d go for, no…” he replied vaguely, thanking the waiter with a nod.

“And what would you go for?” Veronica replied, catching on, and faking irritation in her voice. But her eyes were laughing when Logan looked into them and he waited until they were alone again before leaning in and whispering his answer.

“Hot.”

She blushed and squeezed his hand.

“That’s not a bad word. Unoriginal, but I’ll accept it.”

She’d never been called hot before. Lilly was the hot one.

“Unoriginal? Okay, hold on… Wait.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’re doing your Slytherin thing again, aren’t you?”

“Me? Never,” she replied conspiratorially.

“Mh-hm, sure… What word would _you_ use?”

“As an unoriginal and generic qualificative to describe your physical appearance?”

He nodded, amused.

“Hmm… fit.”

“Fit?”

“Fit,” she nodded.

“That’s even worse.”

“Than what? Cute or hot?”

“Both. Since when are you British?”

“I’m not. I just borrow their prettiest words.”

He snorted.

“Oh, look, our chips,” he said, seeing the waiter approaching.

“We ordered chips?” she asked, turning around.

“Your British vocabulary is seriously lacking. Thank you,” he told the waiter. “This,” he continued, holding up a fry to show Veronica, “is a chip.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you know more about the Maine penitentiary system than about easy British slang.”

“I know plenty of British slang!”

“Prove it,” he challenged, smug.

“Okay, you know what we were doing in your car, earlier? That’s snogging.”

He nodded, a smile tugging on his lips.

“You’re a bloke,” she continued. “And I need to go to the loo.”

She stood up.

“You really need to go to the bathroom now?”

“May I remind you of the fact that they didn’t put any toilets on that damn beach?”

“You’re just trying to prove a point,” he replied, smiling from ear to ear.

“Codswallop,” she declared, winking as she left.

Logan shook his head at the now empty seat in front of him.

“There you are, darling. Home before the clock strikes twelve,” Logan declared grandiosely, parking his car behind Veronica’s LeBaron.

“We had until midnight? If I had known, I would’ve had dessert.”

“No, but a Cinderella reference felt timely. Except I promise to recognize your face and not your feet tomorrow.”

“That’s because a long night of dancing didn’t wear you off like it did that poor prince.”

“So how was it? On a scale from one to ten?”

“One. Seven. Four. Which part?” she asked, lingering inside and smirking.

“Our first real date.”

“Hm…” she pretended to think, and he reached out to poke her. She laughed. “Okay, okay. Hm… nine.”

“What, you’re mad because I taught you something you didn’t know? I had promised I would, when we met, remember?”

“I remember. No, that was not what docked off marks. But now that you say it, you’re right. Eight.”

“Can I still salvage that score?” he asked, leaning over the console.

“There might be way.”

She grabbed his shirt and kissed him.

“Better, you’re back up to nine,” she decided, and hopped out of the car, grabbing her bag along the way.

“See you tomorrow, Cinderella,” he called through his window.

“I’m not calling you Prince Charming,” she replied, turning around to look at him one last time with a grin.

Logan couldn’t wipe the smile off his face the rest of his drive home.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**_Whispers of “are you sure?”_ **

**_“Never have I ever before”_ **

That Saturday was a sunny, warm day, with just enough wind to cool down the skin exposed to intense rays. The sun was dipping in the horizon, moving away from its midday zenith, and Logan thought it was a damn near perfect afternoon.

“Penny for your thought,” Veronica said playfully. “And by penny I mean the satisfaction that your girlfriend cares what’s going on in your head.”

“I’m not sure that’s quite enough to motivate me,” he shrugged, picking at the grass.

“What if I throw in that you don’t have to sleep on my couch tonight?” she asked cheekily.

“Or your dad’s bed?”

“Fine,” she smiled, rolling her eyes flirtatiously.

“Sold. I was thinking about the sun.”

“That’s a cute way of telling me I light up your days,” she challenged.

“I was _not_ thinking about you, but nice try.”

“You mean you have actual poetic thoughts about the nature surrounding us?”

“I have poetic thoughts about a lot of things in their natural state,” he replied with a raised eyebrow and she laughed and scooted closer to him, their knees touching as they sat cross-legged in the grass.

He leaned forward and kissed her slowly, letting his lips and his tongue dance lazily along hers, taking his time. He had all day, hell, he had all weekend. He held on to her, running his hands up and down her sides, and she kissed him back, again and again, slowly, slowly. When his thumb grazed the side of her breast, he moved his hands back down, but she took his wrists gently and brought his hands up, up. He pulled back a few centimetres to look at her, questioning, and she gave the smallest nod, placing her lips back on his and closing her eyes. Delicately, he started massaging her breasts, and the small moan that resonated in her throat, against his mouth, reassured him. One step at a time.

Suddenly their slow rhythm became more hurried, Veronica pulling Logan to her by the back of his neck and wrapping her legs around him. Her chest crashed into his, and he settled his hands on her back, holding her close. He was kissing Veronica Mars and that, _that_ was probably the most wonderful thing he’d ever felt. The way she couldn’t seem to get enough of him, the way the air between them seemed to thin out, realizing it had no place there, were entrancing.

“What about we take this elsewhere,” he murmured.

She nodded quickly, because yes, yes, it was true, they were still outside, still in public, this called for a more private setting.

“Hold tight, bobcat.”

He stood up shakily, her legs still around him, and she held on tight like he’d said, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck. When they reached his parked car, he settled her against it and kissed her again, because, because… he didn’t know why, but she was _right there_ in his arms and so warm and her lips were calling him. And who was he to say no? Veronica clung to him, one hand securing his head, the other on his back, her feet hooked together so she wouldn’t fall down, and she was kissing him, kissing, kissing, kissing. She was all lips and tongue and the flutter of eyelashes against his cheeks.

“We should really get to a better place,” Logan tried again, not really wanting to break the kiss or the rush he felt when she kissed him like _that_ , but coming to his senses.

“We can just do it in the backseat,” she breathed, angling her head towards the backseat in question, not a care in the world.

“I don’t want to make love to you for the first time in the backseat of my car,” he moaned.

“You want to make love to me?” she asked, her voice small and so sweet he wanted to capture it in his teeth, like cotton candy, elusive and utterly delicious.

“I thought that was a relatively clear implication of what we were doing and saying.”

“It’s just… a poetic formulation.”

“I told you I’m poetic. What would you have gone for?” he asked absently, nibbling at her jaw. God, he couldn’t get enough of her.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, closing her eyes at the sensation, “but it sounds good the way you say it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Get in the car, Veronica,” he breathed out against her neck.

She clumsily removed herself from around him, and he waited until she was inside to open his own door and slide into his seat.

“Do we have to make a stop at the drugstore?” he asked.

“I have condoms at home.”

“Good.”

He wondered how long she’d had them, if she had been thinking of him when she bought them, but shook the thoughts from his head. _Focus on the road, Logan_. Getting into an accident now would be really, really stupid.

He pulled up into her driveway, noticing her father was already gone with the LeBaron – thank God – and Veronica hopped out of the car, pulling out her keys from her pocket. They walked up the steps to the front door, and he kissed her temple from behind her, his arms around her body, as she was unlocking the door. She pushed it open, then pushed him on it to close it, standing on her tiptoes, her keys forgotten on the floor and her hands cupping his face. He stumbled backwards for a second, but caught himself and encircled her waist. He touched his lips to hers, delicately, barely a whisper, wanted to give her the time to re-evaluate the situation.

“Upstairs,” she murmured, looking right into his eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked, bringing his hand to wipe away hair from her face.

“Yes. I want you, Logan.”

He smiled and kissed her fervently, hoping his knees wouldn’t give in from the frenzy she caused in his stomach. “Lead the way, bobcat.”

She took his hand and they stumbled all over the stairs, going in for another kiss, another, every two seconds, until they got to her bed and she dragged him down with her. He hooked his fingers at the hem of her shirt and pulled it off, hovering above her.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, trailing lingering kisses down her stomach.

“I’m yours,” she replied, her gaze piercing through him.

He looked back up to her, kissed her lips.

“You can stop me at any time. Anything I do, any place I touch. You tell me if you want to stop. Okay?”

Veronica nodded, and took his face in her hands to kiss him warmly.

“I’m ready,” she told him. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it in _days_.”

Logan groaned as she let her hands wander under his shirt. He was sure he’d be thinking about it for days, too.

“So that happened.”

Veronica giggled. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

“ _Someone_ has a lot of energy,” Logan said with a smirk, turning to face her.

“Hey, I didn’t say _right now_. Although…”

He draped an arm around her, delighting in the feel of her skin against his, and kissed her neck. Then her jaw, then her shoulder, then her chin and from there, down, down, painfully slowly. He assumed he was doing alright when she uttered his name, more a whimper than a word.

“Yes, darling?” he asked, cheeky, looking up at her through thick eyelashes.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she told him, touching the tip of his nose with her finger.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“We should think about dinner,” Veronica panted.

“Mhm… maybe, yes,” Logan nodded into her neck. God, the things he made her feel when he found that exact spot on her neck…

She moaned. “Logan, seriously.”

“Okay, okay,” he agreed, pulling away and looking at her. The delicate moonlight glowing on her creamy skin, the shadows accentuating her curves, the light sheen of sweat and her flushed cheeks made Logan certain that she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“What are you doing?” she asked after a pause.

“Looking at you.”

She blushed, grabbing one of the sheets to bring it up to cover herself.

“You know I saw that already,” he noted, plopping back down next to her on the mattress.

“Well, yeah, but…”

She couldn’t explain exactly _why_ her nakedness was suddenly embarrassing, but it was. She felt too exposed, once she had fallen out of the bliss and sensuality of everything. She didn’t have anything to hide from Logan, not anymore, he’d thoroughly explored everything there was to explore, she’d let him into an intimacy she’d never allowed herself before, but with the sun going down and the glow of the moon barely illuminating them instead, her thought patterns were back into focus. They were no longer drinking up the boldness the summer sun sparked in her, they were masked away by the shadows of the night, and the darkness painted over her free carelessness. Not that she wouldn’t be doing any of _that_ again. But she felt a modesty she hadn’t during the afternoon under Logan’s gaze.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine,” he said quietly. “I’m not offended. Not after you let me do _that_.”

“It’s not really a question of letting you when I’m asking.”

“Asking? You were begging.”

She blushed deeper. “Like you weren’t,” she countered.

“Totally different.”

“How?”

“Do you want me to spell it out for you? A step by step replay?” he asked with a wolfish grin.

“Hm, over dinner maybe.”

“Right, that.”

“Sustenance is important, especially after physical exertion.”

“Or before.”

“Or in between.”

“Please tell me you have food in the house,” Logan moaned.

“Probably.”

She climbed out of the bed and reached around for Logan’s shirt, then pulled it on.

“Should I comment on that?” he asked.

“What you should do is pull on some pants and come with me to the kitchen.”

“ _You_ ’re not wearing pants.”

“Strategic choice: your shirt is long enough to be a dress.”

“Damn, hooking up with me has even more pros than I thought. Maybe I should advertise that.”

“You can, but I can’t guarantee you’ll ever be let into this room again.”

“What about your living room?”

“That depends,” she called from down the stairs as he hobbled down behind her, still zipping up his pants. “To have an interesting conversation about fidelity with my father? Absolutely.”

“What about for a booty call?”

She opened the fridge and pretended to think for a moment. “Nope.”

“I’ll have to keep all my secrets hidden away, then.”

“Alas.”

“What time does your dad get back tomorrow?”

“You want to talk about my dad, now?” she asked, pulling out a frozen pizza from the freezer in askance.

“You brought him up,” he remarked, nodding at the pizza.

“Fair enough. Late afternoon, I think.”

“Do you want help with that?” he asked, gesturing to the pizza.

“No, I’m okay. Umm, yeah, so you should probably be out by noon, just in case. So I can open all the windows and make the bed and take out the trash.”

“Take out the trash?”

“My dad’s a P.I.,” she said, “He’ll definitely notice the condoms.”

“Won’t he know something’s up if you make your bed and take out the trash when he’s not even there to remind you?”

“Damn, you’re right,” she said, stopping mid-filling of Backup’s bowl.

“Well, what’s so bad if he knows?”

“Do _your_ parents know what you’ve been up to today and why you’re not coming home tonight?”

“I told my mom I was sleeping out. She didn’t ask, but I’m pretty sure she knows. There aren’t a lot of plausible options. I haven’t actually talked to my dad in nearly a week, so that’s a win.”

“Is your mom used to you sleeping out?” she asked innocently, checking the timer for the pizza.

“Veronica.”

“Hm?” she looked up at him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I _know_ I’m not the first one, just… curious.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then don’t be. The important thing is right now. And right now, I want you, and only you.”

He kissed the tip of her nose.

“Okay,” she agreed. For now.

Veronica ran her finger along Logan’s abs, her head resting in the small hollow between his neck and shoulder. His arm was around her, and he kissed the top of her head. The sun was long set, the lights out, a comfortable silence established. Yet they both had their eyes wide open, their minds awake.

“I’ve never seen you work out,” she remarked. “Not in two months. How do you even have abs like this?”

“I work out in the morning.”

“You do?”

He made a face. “Not as much as I used to.”

“Too lazy to get up in the morning when you’re on vacation?”

“Too eager to get to a certain little blonde when I’m on vacation.”

“I certainly can’t fault you for that,” she giggled and bit her lip.

“What?” he asked, nudging her.

“What, ‘what’?”

“You’re biting your lip. You do that when you’re trying to stop yourself from doing or saying something. I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess it’s something you’re not saying.”

“You lost,” she replied, dropping her head to replace her finger with her lips, then kissing up his chest, up his neck, all the way to his lips.

“Don’t think I did,” he murmured as a shiver ran down his spine. He wrapped both his arms around her as she settled on top of him.

“Thank you, Veronica,” he said, gazing into her eyes.

“Thank you for what?”

“For trusting me. All day. For letting me be the first to do that with you.”

She kissed him once, quickly, then looked back to him.

“Thank you for listening to me. For being careful. For making me not regret a thing. This… this is the first time I want to remember,” she added in a whisper.

She rested her head back onto his shoulder, and he kissed her forehead. “I love you.”

It wasn’t the first time he said it, it wouldn’t be the last, and she still had the words stuck in her throat, but the butterflies in her stomach took flight nonetheless.

“I believe you.”

Logan smiled in her hair. Somehow that was even better than if she’d repeated his words back to him. Because this was pure Veronica, and it was real.

“Does it smell like sex?”

“Veronica, relax. Your dad isn’t going to _smell_ the house.”

“But does it?”

“Not really?”

“It still kind of does, right?”

“I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to smell like. Plus we only did it in your room! You don’t have to worry about the rest of the house. Unless you want to change that…”

She glared at him.

“Fine, okay, not a good time. Why are you so nervous about this anyway? Is it really the end of the world if he knows?”

He’d asked the previous night, but she hadn’t really answered.

“I guess not.” She fiddled with her hands. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t want my dad to know about my sex life. It’s weird.”

He hummed, bringing her closer to him by her fingers, and kissing her cheek.

“So you’re not embarrassed of me?”

“No, dummy. You’ve been over before.”

“And you were very tense.”

“You’re the first boyfriend I brought home.”

“You didn’t bring Duncan home?”

“Not really. We grew up together, my dad already knew him as Lilly’s brother. It didn’t count.”

“And I’m more important.”

She rolled her eyes at his matter-of-fact response and grin.

“And you’re more important,” she repeated ironically. He was, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. Not yet, anyway.

“Are you really going to make me leave before your dad gets here? He doesn’t know I spent the night. For all he knows, I just got here.”

“Fine, you can stay if you get changed.”

“He didn’t even see me yesterday,” he protested.

“Your shirt probably smells sweaty. And like me.”

“You know I don’t usually get close enough to your dad for him to _smell_ me, right? You have an obsession with smell today.”

“Just go,” she whined.

“Be right back. I have spare clothes in the car.”

“Why?”

“For situations just like this, of course.”

He kissed the tip of her nose and was gone with a goofy salute.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're nearing the final stretch of this story! I can't believe it's already coming to an end, thank you so much for sticking with me!  
> Most of this chapter was written in the middle of the night, while I was going absolutely crazy debugging the program I was working on - so if any of it sounds insane, it's because I was.

**Chapter 10**

**_So much for summer love_ **

**_And saying “us”_ **

“Did your dad guess how you occupied your time when he was away?” Logan asked the next day, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Not that he told me.”

“See? You worry for nothing.”

“No, my careful covering up was effective,” she corrected.

Logan rolled his eyes and scooped some of his ice cream in his mouth.

“He will if you keep that smirk every time you talk about this weekend, though,” Veronica noted, mirroring his action, but she was smiling slyly too.

“How’d his case go?” Logan asked instead of answering. Him, not smirking? Please.

“Good. Technically, confidential. But from what I saw of the files, he got some good pictures.”

“You snoop in your dad’s case files?” he asked, amused.

“I work for Mars Investigations when in Neptune, so it’s not really _snooping_ ,” she justified, gesturing with her spoon.

“Of course not. Just getting your nose into cases you’re not investigating. Professional curiosity.”

“I know you’re trying to be ironic, but that is in fact accurate.”

“Accuracy wasn’t the issue here.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Are you trying to turn this into a hot fanfiction make out session?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

She looked around, pointing at the other patrons of the ice cream parlour.

“Read the room,” she offered.

“You think it would kill the mood if that one kid’s precariously held ice cream fell down and he started crying? Such little faith in my abilities to make everything around you disappear as I gather you in my arms and kiss you passionately.”

“3, 2, 1…” Veronica whispered, looking at the kid in question.

As if on cue, the little boy’s ice cream did indeed fall from his cone, splattering on the floor. The crying didn’t follow though, to both Logan and Veronica’s surprise.

“Mood still intact,” Logan quipped.

“In fanfiction, the protagonists don’t hang out in ice cream shops.”

“Sure they do. A summer twist on the classic coffee shop AU.”

“How do you know so much about fanfiction?”

“I used to read fanfiction where characters my dad played ended up dead. Call it therapy. But free.”

“Oh,” she said, caught off guard. “That sounds like a rough foray into that world.”

“Then I switched to Harry Potter fanfiction,” he added with a grin. “It’s been a while,” he noted.

“I have my laptop home,” she offered.

“Veronica Mars, are you offering to read fanfiction with me?”

She blushed.

“Just a warning: if there is a weird quantity of fruit metaphors in the summary, it’ll be smutty,” Logan said.

“Smutty?”

“Oh, dear Veronica, how fun it will be to teach you about fanfiction.”

Veronica had had very clear, set rules when she’d arrived in Clatham Cove that summer, just like she had every previous summer. They weren’t rules she had written down or explicitly stated in any way, but they were such obvious rules that they didn’t need to be put to ink. But as July slipped into August, and into mid-August now, and her days with Logan became stiflingly numbered, she wished she remembered them more clearly. The lines between summer attachments and her rest-of-the-year world were getting dangerously blurred, and she wasn’t sure if she still had the heart to let her rules dictate her life. She simultaneously wished she could summon them back and let them take control of her and her life, and that she had never made them up in the first place because it was suffocating to feel like she was breezing right past them.

Some of her rules were simple: don’t go skinny dipping, don’t listen to the town gossip, don’t encourage any of grandmother Reynolds’ friends’ attempts at matchmaking. Some, on the other hand, should have come with clauses to detail exactly what to avoid. For example:

  * Don’t befriend the boy who lives at the Davis House;
  * Don’t let anyone get to know exactly what you order at every single place in town;
  * Don’t mock a boy’s car until you want to make out in its backseat;



All should have been clearly indicated clauses marking the beginning of the “don’t fall in love” rule. She had never thought that this one rule would be a problem, it hadn’t been a rule at the forefront of any of her previous summers because it wasn’t an action she could actively avoid, like most of her other rules detailed. But at this point in the summer, Veronica was fairly certain that if she’d written her rules down, she’d be staring stupidly at _that_ rule and wondering what the hell was wrong with her. She hadn’t yet decided if something was wrong with the 11-year-old version of her who had come up with the principle of having Clatham Cove rules or with the 17-year-old version of her (18 in a few days!) who seemed to be quite close to breaking a crucial rule.

The simpler rules were not only simpler because they were easier to follow. They were simpler because if she _didn’t_ follow them, the consequences weren’t too atrocious. Going skinny dipping wouldn’t haunt her forever and make her want to cry every time she closed her eyes… That she knew of, of course, because she _hadn’t_ gone skinny dipping. But those bigger rules, the more abstract ones, the ones with the emotional element, not only were they harder to control, but so were their consequences. If she fell in love during the summer with someone she would have to leave, probably forever, in the last few days of August, well… she was completely and utterly fucked, that was simply it.

But it wasn’t like she could just tell Logan that. “Hi, sorry, I think I’m falling in love with you, and that was really not the plan, so could you please become a psychotic jackass I won’t be sorry to leave behind in two weeks?” Somehow, she thought that wouldn’t quite cut it. Besides, she didn’t want him to become a jackass. He probably was one, in some iteration of his persona, but not with her, not here, not the _real_ Logan. The real Logan was someone whose company she never seemed to get enough of, whose embrace she always sought, whose laugh she could hear reverberate in her mind when she closed her eyes, alone in her bed at night. The real Logan was that boy right there who was smiling when he saw her arriving towards him like she was the only goddamn thing that mattered in the world.

The real Logan was the person running his thumbs softly on her brows and asking what was wrong and why she was frowning. Caressing the creases away.

The real Logan was the one whose lips she kissed delicately when she rose to her tiptoes as a way of greeting.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she told him, because there was nothing she could say. Maybe he would understand, but maybe he wouldn’t, and the thoughts and feelings swirling inside of her were too fresh, too stinging, for her to allow them out.

Later, when they were lying down at the beach, drinking in the sun and each other’s company, she looked over at him, his lean figure blocking out parts of the sunlight trying to blind her. He wasn’t looking at her, not noticing how she was studying him. Instead, he looked lost in thought, gaze wandering somewhere over the blue waves. Somewhere far away or maybe right there, just out of his grasp. She quietly took her camera out of her bag and hoped he wouldn’t move, hoped he wouldn’t object to her taking his picture. But he didn’t, he just kept looking at the sea, so she snapped the picture and looked down at the screen to check on her work.

And the words came to her out of the blue, just surfing from the deep ocean all the way to shore, coming to her with natural ease and uncharacteristic grace. She imagined he _was_ those words when she looked back up to him.

“You’re beautiful, Logan.”

It felt strange on her tongue to use the word “beautiful” to describe a boy, but “handsome” didn’t even begin to cover it. It wasn’t that kind of objective characterization of his physical appearance that defined what Logan looked like in her eyes. It was the way he shrugged with his entire body, full of nonchalance, the way he stuffed his long hands in his pockets distractedly, the way the corner of his lip twitched when she was explaining absurdities, the way his eyes seemed to have an infinity of layers, each one an emotion he was living fully and intensely, completely bared to her, the way the muscles in his arm flexed when he messed up his already messy hair to distract from the bashful grins he hadn’t predicted would grace his features, the way he giddily ate every last drop of his ice cream under Veronica’s delighted watch. All of it painted a detailed picture, every stroke of an invisible artist’s brush adding to Logan’s personality. His appearance wasn’t handsome in that traditional way, even though it was to others, she was sure. No, Logan’s physical appearance was a reflection of his personality, every movement and every element an enchanting reminder that he was a full-fledged person. A beautiful, beautiful person, and Veronica lost her breath just a little bit, thinking how lucky she was to know him enough to see that.

He gave a small laugh, surprised, and Veronica immediately added the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at _her_ to her mental list of beautiful Logan features.

“What?” he asked mid-laugh, looking tenderly at her.

“You heard me.”

“I think I did,” he nodded but it was barely a murmur, lost in the salt air.

He shifted his weight to lean over and kiss the tip of her nose, and she felt his eyelashes against her cheek when he closed his eyes to give the small affectionate kiss.

Yes, it was starting to feel like she was utterly and completely fucked, for sure, because every single one of her nerve endings stood up, shivering and thrilled. She cupped his cheek with her hand and just looked at him, so carefree and comfortable and _happy_. And she knew it was too late, it was weeks too late. There was no reversing what she had started feeling. Her heart seemed to increase a few sizes, filled to the brink, and she kissed his temple, overcome with something she couldn’t explain.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” she said with a smile, and she knew that in so many ways, she was. “Yeah, I am.”

Even if it would hurt later, even if it hurt already now. _This_ was more than okay. It was divine.

“Come on, I’ve been over at your place plenty of times. Why are you scared of coming over at mine?”

“ _You_ don’t even like being there, you spend all your time away from it.”

“Ah, but my dad already went back to L.A. for a shoot, so the house is in much better spirit. Aren’t you curious what it looks like?”

Veronica balked at that. She _had_ been curious about what the inside of the Davis House looked like for years. And she was also curious as to how his parents had arranged it, and how Logan’s space was organized (or disorganized). And with the risk of running into Aaron taken away, maybe it was a good idea to agree to spend the afternoon at Logan’s. (She was fairly certain that if she did run into Aaron Echolls, she would break his nose and/or commit a crime that would get her in prison and only make the situation worse for Logan, so she thought it best to avoid him, which wasn’t a problem, since Logan also avoided his father most of the time.)

“What are we going to do, then?”

“What do we do at your place?” he countered.

“In chronological order: showing you around, my dad making awkward jokes, awkward card games with my dad, and you know what happened the last time.”

“Why are you shy to put it into words?”

“Maybe I just like the air of mystique it gives us.”

He raised a dubious eyebrow.

“Right, well, my mom is probably going to want to see you, so I believe hanky panky is off the table. Unless you’re feeling particularly frisky.”

She buried her face in her hand as she blushed. “Oh my god. Don’t call it that. Don’t… say those words.”

He laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny,” he apologized. But he couldn’t fight the smile creeping on his lips.

“Stop laughing at me!” she chastised, smacking his arm, but she was laughing too.

“So will you come?” he asked.

“Of course I’ll come.”

She knew she would from the very beginning, but it was always nice to keep him on edge. Keep him on his toes. Although she suspected he probably knew exactly what she was doing.

“So what does your mom know about me?” Veronica asked nervously as Logan welcomed her in the house.

“That you’re my girlfriend… I don’t know, I don’t talk with my parents all that much.”

“So I have a clean slate?”

He hesitated. “Not quite. Remember when we had a fight and you didn’t return my calls and I was sulking and then the next day we had another fight and made up?”

“Yeah…”

“I told her about that the night I was sulking.”

“Oh my god, she hates me.”

“Veronica.”

“Hm?” She looked up at him.

“Stop stressing. Your dad liked me. My mom is going to love you. My dad would probably hate your smart mouth and, well, the rest of you, but I think that’s a good sign.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He took her hand. “Come on.”

An elegant woman Veronica now realized she had indeed seen in several movies and at a number of award shows walked towards them with a warm smile.

“You must be Veronica,” she said.

“That’s me,” she replied lamely. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Echolls.”

“Likewise. I look forward to hearing more about you. Would you kids like a snack?”

“Um, not yet, Mom. I’ll show Veronica around first.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll have it be prepared for about half an hour from now, is that okay?”

“That’s perfect, thank you,” Veronica smiled.

 _They have people preparing snacks for them, they have_ people _preparing_ snacks _for them_ , she repeated in her mind, trying not to panic at the absurdity of it. She remembered how a maid had opened the door when she had come to talk to Logan after their first fight, and she was used to the ridiculous wealth of the Neptune 90909 zip code, she had even had many a sleepover at Lilly’s over the years, in the obscenely immense Kane mansion. But still, it astonished her that people were living like this. That her _boyfriend_ was living like this. How was anyone who grew up in that kind of environment anything but a selfish prick?

“These people preparing the snacks… and the meals, I guess… do you know them?” she asked innocently.

“That’s not a very fair question,” Logan said, immediately noting where she was going. He led her up the stairs.

“What?” she asked, taken aback.

“I don’t spend much time here. Which you know, because I spend it with you. If I answer, it frames me as the rich boy who doesn’t give a crap about the people working at the house he lives in.”

“The people working for him,” Veronica corrected, and Logan chose to ignore it. After a second, she continued. “So you _don’t_ know their names.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You kind of did.”

“Veronica,” he said, the warning clear in his tone.

“I’m just trying to –”

“Trying to what, Veronica?” he cut off, turning to her. “Can you just drop it?”

“Why are you so defensive?”

“Why are you so intent on finding something that makes me look bad? Do you somehow feel better about yourself if you find that everyone around you sucks? That’s not new, Veronica. You know who I am. You know the way I live. You know where I’m from and who raised me. Why is this important to who I am now, to who I am to you?”

She looked like he’d slapped her.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled,” he muttered.

“No, I, uh… You’re right,” she admitted sheepishly. “Not _all_ of it, and, yeah, you shouldn’t have yelled, but… I was being unfair with you, asking questions to which I already knew the answers just because I wanted to hear you say them. And you’re right, it doesn’t affect my…”

 _My Logan_ , she thought, but it wouldn’t sound right if she said it that way. “My version of you,” she said instead.

Logan nodded and pulled her into a hug, resting his chin at the top of her head.

“For the record, I do know most of their names,” he said after a beat.

She smiled against his chest and squeezed him tighter, just a tiny bit. Her Logan.

“It’s just… it’s going to be easier to leave you if you suck, you know?” she whispered, not really believing she’d actually said those thoughts out loud.

But he didn’t seem to think she was out of her mind or a complete weirdo. He just kissed her hair and answered, “I know.”

“And that’s my room. The Logan Lair. Logansville. The Logandom.”

“Stop before it gets too weird,” she cut off, raising a hand to accentuate her meaning.

“Alright. This is where the magic happens,” he smirked, opening the door wide for her to come inside.

It was much bigger than she had imagined. She didn’t know exactly what she had imagined – when she’d imagined his room, she hadn’t really gone past the bed, and whatever could be happening there – but this was bigger, grander. Ridiculous for a teenage boy. But also oddly endearing. There was the surfboard precariously leaning on the wall, and the clothes in haphazard piles around the room, sometimes folded and sometimes not, and overall the room had a distinct air of Logan. It smelled like him, too. The smell she inhaled when she was comfortably sheltered into his arms, against his chest or his neck, not overbearing but instantly recognizable. She wondered if she would be surrounded by the smell, if she rolled herself in his sheets. But that was a slippery slope so she tried not to go there.

“Why did you pick this room?” she asked, having noticed the entire hallway led to bedrooms.

“It’s the furthest away from my parents’,” he shrugged.

She nodded, walking around the room to observe everything she could. She felt like every detail she saw made her closer to Logan somehow, this much deeper into his personal world.

“You have a nice view from here,” she noted, leaning towards the window.

“Uh, yeah. It’s pretty sweet,” he replied, walking to her.

He didn’t know why, but he was feeling somewhat nervous, showing her around like this. It wasn’t like he had hidden much from her in the nearly three months they’d known each other, but he was a bit scared that maybe she wouldn’t like it. He wasn’t especially proud of his room or anything of the sort, but it was his, and it felt like he was baring himself to her.

“Oh, makes me think, am I allowed to take you out for your birthday?” he asked. “Or do you have something planned with your dad?”

“What made you think of that?” she replied with a laugh.

“Do you want me to answer that?” He motioned behind them with his head.

“Oh, now _you_ ’re the one who is too shy to put it into words,” she teased.

“Just sparing your sensitive ears, darling,” he answered, enclosing his waist with his arms and leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek.

“My dad said he planned brunch. But the afternoon and evening are yours for the taking.”

“I’m taking them, then.”

“The afternoon _and_ the evening?”

“I would take the night, too, but I have a feeling your dad wouldn’t be all that happy with that.”

“You’ll have to squeeze your night plans into the evening, I fear,” she nodded.

“I can work with that.”

“What are your plans?”

“I can’t tell you or it’ll ruin the surprise,” he whispered huskily into her ear.

She closed her eyes. “You can’t say stuff like that,” she whined.

“That I’m planning a surprise for your birthday?”

“No, that’s fine. I’ll just try to figure out the surprise.” He rolled his eyes and she continued. “I mean the _way_ you said it. We’re alone in your room and you have the nerve to say something in that voice even if we need to be downstairs with your mom soon.”

“Too tempting?” he asked, smirking, delighted that Veronica was feeling the same heat he was.

She nodded vigorously and raised one of his hands to her lips. She kissed the inside of his wrist.

“Let’s get some air before I have to face your mom. I don’t want to still have unholy thoughts in my mind when we see her. I’ll feel horrible.”

“Unholy thoughts, huh?”

“Don’t you continue down that road!”

“Fine, fine, come with me.”

He laced their fingers together again and led her to the balcony.

“You have a balcony in your room?”

“It’s great, I can lure annoying one-night stands outside and then lock them there.”

She turned sharply to him, but all he did was raise an eyebrow, as if challenging her.

“You’re seventeen,” she said.

He shrugged, as if to say, “so what?”.

“You haven’t had any one-night stands while living here,” she pursued.

“You sure about that?”

“Yes,” she lied.

He hummed.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

“What?”

“That ridiculous little game thing.”

“It’s not serious, Veronica.”

“It’s not funny, _Logan_.”

“Bobcat –”

“Hm? Nope, not a good time for that name.”

He sighed. “Veronica. Look at me.” She didn’t but he continued anyway. “Why are we fighting _again_?”

“You brought up your one-night stands like five seconds after talking about having sex on my birthday.”

His jaw dropped upon hearing her talking about it so frankly. She looked up at him then, challenging.

“I was just joking, Veronica, seriously. I don’t want to have sex with someone else. I haven’t since I met you.”

“Since you met me?”

“More or less. Not the point,” he brushed away. “I love you, Veronica, okay? Bobcat?” he added softly, and he saw how the irritation was ebbing away from her face. It encouraged him when she didn’t turn down the nickname this time. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just… it’s important to me. It means something. Sometimes I feel like it doesn’t mean the same to you.”

“It probably doesn’t,” he admitted. “But it doesn’t mean it _doesn’t_ matter to me. You matter to me. I’ve never been in love with someone before. Being with you, it’s amazing.”

She smiled, trying not to blush.

“Really?”

“ _Yes_ , really,” he replied emphatically and kissed her cheek.

She grabbed his face and turned him to her, kissing his lips. It was a full kiss, a deep kiss, almost a desperate kiss, and he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it, but hell if he wasn’t going to enjoy it. He placed his hands on her back, on her hips, on the back of her head, he didn’t know where to put them to just bring her _closer_ to him. He edged his hand lower than he probably should have, but it worked and she understood and she launched herself into his arms, and he held her up to him, the world spinning out of focus, it was just her, her legs around his waist, her hands around his face, her lips on his. And it was warm, it was so warm, deep in his stomach, and he ached for her, ached for this to last forever. And maybe it was because he knew it was coming to an end but he was delirious, he wanted to keep her right there until he died and maybe he was dying already and this was an angel’s kiss to soften the pain, maybe he was already flying to heaven – what was he doing going to heaven? – and Veronica was his guide. _If I let her go now, I let her go forever_. It was irrational, it didn’t make sense, but their time was so fleeting, he could feel it being ripped away, and if he didn’t grab on to that little time he had where Veronica was his, completely, she would slip away before he realized what had happened.

He groaned when she moved her warm lips to his neck, letting herself get completely lost in her intuitions, and he was breathing so hard, he couldn’t form coherent thoughts, let alone coherent sentences. She traced her nose along the stubble on his jaw, and he lost his mind, and then she was back to his lips and he pressed her back against the wall because he was sure his legs would give way at any moment.

“We can’t,” he finally panted against her mouth.

“Hm?”

“Not now.”

She moaned, but she knew he was right, she really wanted Lynn Echolls to like her but damn it she really wanted Logan too.

“I know, I know,” he breathed. “Later.”

She kissed him one last time and slid her legs down his until her feet hit the ground.

“Guess coming to get some air wasn’t such a great idea after all,” she observed.

“Oh, it was a _great_ idea. Just not for the purpose we had set.”

Veronica smiled and shook her head. She reached up to give Logan one last chaste kiss on the cheek before rearranging her clothes.

“Let’s go,” she said, “before we get distracted again.”

A few minutes later, with a bit of cold water splashed on her face, Veronica followed Logan into the dining area, where his mother was already sitting, reading what looked like a script, a tray of muffins and fruits beside her on the table.

“Oh, hello!” she greeted the two teenagers with a smile, putting down her glasses on her script. “Logan showed you around?”

“Yes, it’s a lovely house,” Veronica said, and she cringed inwardly. _Can I be any more awkward?_ “He showed me all the most important rooms.”

She saw the start of a smirk forming on Logan’s lips, so she immediately corrected, “Like the _bathroom_.” She glared at him. _Someone_ was trying to make a good impression, and clearly Logan thought it was very amusing.

“Have a seat, have a seat,” Lynn said suddenly, only just realizing neither of the teenagers had sat down. She pushed the tray towards them and Veronica thanked her.

 _So, what now?_ Veronica thought. When her father had met Logan, it had been all questions and scrutiny to get to know her boyfriend, so she had expected something similar when she met the one parent of Logan’s whose head she didn’t want to kick off. _Think, Veronica, a subject of conversation, any will do!_ She thought she could compliment her on Logan’s upbringing or some other cliché because she was a bit desperate but then it occurred to her that if they had “the help” around so much, maybe she hadn’t done all that much of the raising up herself, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to venture on those grounds. She could ask Lynn about the script she had been reading, or just her job in general, but there was a good chance that was all confidential and it would just embarrass her to have to not tell Veronica anything. And Veronica certainly didn’t want to talk about Aaron, enquire how he was doing. And the lovely decorations, well, Lynn was probably not the one who chosen or made them anyway. _What can I say, what can I say, what can I say_ kept running through her mind. She cursed herself for not having asked Logan about Lynn’s interests beforehand, to at least fake a common passion. _Maybe I should have brought flowers or something_. It was only a few seconds later, but it felt like an eternity to Veronica, that she noticed a picture on the mantelpiece beside the table.

“What a beautiful picture,” she exclaimed, in a way she hoped was not too over-the-top, as she looked over.

It was a picture someone in the family must have taken, unlike the many professional shots most other frames encapsulated. Lynn was laughing, in a yellow flowing dress, holding her high heeled shoes in one hand and a toddler Veronica assumed was Logan on her opposite hip. She was walking away from the camera, but had turned for an instant, and had probably been caught on film without her knowledge.

“Trina took this,” Lynn said with a smile. “She had been itching to start photography all year, and for her birthday we got her a camera. She was attached to it all summer.”

“Until she dropped it into a pond,” Logan piped up.

“Until she dropped it into a pond,” Lynn agreed with a laugh. “Do you like photography?” she asked Veronica.

“I do, actually. I haven’t taken that many pictures this summer, but I bring my camera almost everywhere. Did Trina continue photography after her camera’s untimely demise?” she asked.

“Her interest met the same untimely demise, I’m afraid,” Lynn laughed.

“It’s a shame, that’s a nice shot.”

“Yeah, she could take her own paparazzi photos of herself,” Logan quipped.

“Logan,” his mother warned.

“If something could motivate her to pick it back up, you know that would be it,” he insisted, not sorry or deterred in the least.

“Speaking of, I didn’t see any paparazzi this summer,” Veronica said. “Looks like you did a good job hiding where you were going.”

“It’s surprising, really,” Lynn agreed. “But I don’t think any media outlets know about this one property.”

“Wait, you _own_ the house?” Veronica asked, surprised.

“Yes, Logan never told you?”

“I just assumed you were renting, like the other occupants of previous years,” she said apologetically.

She didn’t add that Logan avoided talking about his life at home most of the time, so it wasn’t likely he would have told her at length about it. Still, he had never corrected her. It was odd.

“We decided not to rent it out, this year. Try it out ourselves. It’s been nice, hasn’t it?” she asked Logan.

“Very nice,” he replied, sneaking a look at Veronica from the corner of his eye.

“Of course, Logan found more than the charming town and ocean air,” Lynn said, and for a flash, Veronica saw the smirk she had grown to know as Logan’s grace his mother’s features.

“We have ocean air back home,” Logan shrugged.

“It’s not the same ocean.” Lynn turned to Veronica. “Do you live here all year?”

“No, but we come every summer. My grandmother used to live here, we have her house. I’m from California too.”

“Really? What a coincidence. What part?”

“Neptune, near San Diego.”

“I’ve been to Neptune,” Lynn nodded, and Veronica remembered Logan’s similar reaction to her hometown.

“It’s a coveted surfing destination,” she offered, knowing how Logan liked to surf. It was also hell on earth, and she wished she didn’t have to go back so soon, but somehow she thought that would be too much information.

“I was there for a movie,” Lynn answered, “but my husband did enjoy the surf while we were there.”

Veronica felt Logan tense at the mention of his father, and placed a hand on his knee before thinking of the fact that his mother was right there and maybe that kind of intimacy was not to be had. If she noticed, she didn’t show it.

“Well, that should make it easier for the two of you to see each other after the summer, right?” Lynn asked, and Logan and Veronica looked at each other suddenly.

“Um, yeah, for sure. It’s a nice coincidence that Neptune and L.A. are so close to each other,” Veronica said.

Lynn stood up. “I have a call to make,” she said apologetically, pointing to the script still sitting on the table, “but it was a pleasure meeting you, Veronica.”

“You too, Mrs. Echolls,” she replied sincerely.

Lynn gave Veronica a smile and Logan a pat on the shoulder before leaving the room to head for her office.

“I don’t think that went too bad,” Veronica declared once she was certain her boyfriend’s mother was out of earshot.

“I think she likes you,” Logan agreed, and stood up, extending his hand to her.

She took it giddily and he pulled her to him, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Be honest, how much did it kill you to not touch me for all of ten minutes?” Veronica teased.

“I did touch you. You seductively put your hand on my knee.”

“That was _not_ seductive.”

“Believe what you will, Mars, but I can read through you.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Hey, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t renting the house?” she asked, remembering the fact his mother had dispensed.

He shrugged, looking at his feet. “You already thought I was a spoiled rich boy. Didn’t want to add to that.”

He was playing it off like it was nothing, but his eyes betrayed him again, as they always did. She lifted his chin slightly, so he’d be looking at her.

“I didn’t think that very long.”

He dropped down to kiss her lips. “I know.”

They both elected to ignore Lynn’s comment on seeing each other after the summer as they had carefully avoided talk of _after_ for weeks. Veronica knew they’d have to talk about it eventually, but bringing it up made it feel too real, too raw, and she wanted to hold on to the innocence just a bit longer.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I saw yesterday that Taylor Swift had a movie about her latest album coming out today, I was ecstatic - and it felt so fitting that the song used during most of the trailer was August, the one after which this story is modeled. Today just so happens to be the day I'm posting the longest chapter in the story. I hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter 11**

**_I can see us_ **

**_Lost in the memory_ **

**_August slipped away into a moment in time_ **

“Happy birthday!”

“What time is it?” Veronica mumbled, rubbing her eyes and sitting up in her bed. She had picked up her phone without checking the time, and the sun was up, but in summer that didn’t hold enough significance for her.

“8 or something.”

She groaned. “Logan, did you ever hear of letting a girl sleep in on her birthday?”

“Adults don’t sleep in,” he said, and she could hear the bright smile he was undoubtedly bearing.

“Adults are the ones who do the most sleeping in,” she resisted.

“Go back to sleep if you want. I’ll pick you up at 2, if that’s still good. Happy birthday, Veronica.”

She muttered some form of agreement and goodbye and hung up, throwing her head back on the pillow.

When Veronica walked out of her house after promising her dad she wouldn’t be home too late (a promise that wasn’t exactly hers to make, since she had no idea what they would be up to, but a promise she thought was better to make anyway), Logan was waiting for her, parked across the street, leaning on his brightly coloured car and holding up a balloon the same hideous shade of yellow. He smirked when she noticed and walked towards him, her amused snort not escaping him.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, kissing her quickly, a mischievous grin taunting her.

“Well, some asshat woke me up at 8.”

“Oh yeah? What did he have to say for himself?”

“I’m still waiting for his explanation,” she shrugged.

“I’m sure he had good intentions.”

“What kind?”

“Maybe selfish intentions,” he corrected. She raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps he wanted to be the first person to wish you a happy birthday. Or the first person you’d be forced to think of as an adult.”

She smiled, trying not to laugh.

“You’re an idiot,” she said, smiling against his skin as she brushed her lips to his cheek.

“Hmm, yes, but it was a success, wasn’t it?”

“So far, I’d say you’ve managed to accomplish all the goals you’ve set out for yourself.”

“And I’m just getting started.” He leaned into her and softly kissed the spot behind her ear that was so sensitive. “Happy birthday, bobcat.”

He pulled away and handed her the balloon. “Thought you’d appreciate that. Seeing as yellow is your _favourite_ colour.”

“I do appreciate the thought. And the fact that it says ‘happy birthday’ and not the number of a urologist.”

He rolled his eyes and opened the car door for her. “If you please…”

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Top secret.”

“If I read the road signs, I’ll be able to tell.”

“Not if I blindfold you.”

“You won’t!”

“No, I won’t. But don’t think I didn’t consider the option.”

“Is it somewhere we’ve already been?”

“Maybe.”

“Oh, come on! You have to answer that.”

“Do I?” He looked over at her, infinitely entertained.

“It’s my birthday. _And_ I’m the adult in this relationship.”

“I was wondering when you’d bring that up.”

“So?”

“No.”

“No, it’s not somewhere we’ve already been?”

“No, I won’t answer questions. It’ll ruin the surprise.”

“I’ll figure it out,” she assured, widening her eyes to emphasize her point.

“I’m sure you will. In the meantime… how was brunch with your dad?”

“Yummy. He made pancakes and bacon and omelettes, which was probably overkill for two people. But it was great. I haven’t spent much time with him lately, so… it was nice.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s not like you’re dragging me out of the house. I come voluntarily.” It took her a second to register the double meaning of what she had just said, but it had clearly taken Logan much less time. “Don’t raise your eyebrow at me, Logan Echolls!”

He snickered.

“He got me a new laptop,” she continued. “It’s not the pony I’ve been asking for since I was a little girl, but…” she sighed dramatically, “it’ll do.”

“A pony? Do you know how to ride a horse?”

“No, but that’s irrelevant.”

Logan snorted.

“He said I can buy my own pony now, me being an adult and all.”

“A+ deflecting. He managed to dodge giving a reason for 18 years until he had one ready to go. Gotta respect that.”

She laughed.

“Will you tell me where we’re going, now?”

“No.”

“What if I kiss you?”

“You’ll kill us both,” he replied, gesturing at the road in front of them.

She huffed. “A hint?”

“No. For now, keep yourself entertained with your balloon.”

“As entertaining as balloons are, I’m not five. I’m a whole teenager older than five.”

He didn’t answer, keeping his eyes on the road as he merged into the rightmost lane. Veronica fiddled with the string of the balloon, making it bob up and down against the roof of the car. When the light caught the opaque rubber, she saw something shine inside for a fraction of a second. She pulled it back down to her and held it out to the window to try to see better. Yes, there was definitely something there. She shook the balloon a little, holding her ear to it. Hard to say if anything had moved, she hadn’t heard anything.

Logan stole quick glances at her, equal parts amused and nervous. He knew, of course, that she’d eventually realize the garish balloon held something in its helium-inflated pouch, but he hadn’t been sure how long it would take her. Now that she was probably a few seconds away from slashing it open, his heart rate accelerated. Would she find him ridiculously cheesy? Probably. But he hoped she liked what was inside anyway.

“Pull over,” he heard her say, tearing him out of his thoughts, and, yep, it was happening right now then.

He didn’t protest, and carefully pulled over to the side of the road. He turned his attention to her, still holding the balloon to her lap and looking at it suspiciously.

“Yes, darling?” he asked, covering all his nerves with bravado.

“Is there something inside the balloon?” she asked, and he figured it was rhetorical, because when she decided something was true, she was going to investigate it to the end.

He shrugged. “Why don’t you find out?”

A giddy smile started to form on her lips, and she bit them to keep from showing too much enthusiasm. She carefully tried to untie the string at the end of the balloon, without much success, unsurprisingly.

“I don’t think you can untie a balloon open,” he piped up.

“What, am I supposed to destroy it?”

“Just pop it.”

She grumbled, “just pop it,” under her breath, looking around for something to perform the popping action. It wasn’t something she did every day, didn’t have a kit ready to go. She eventually dug into her bag to retrieve a pen and looked at him, as if to make sure she wasn’t just going to make a mess of the balloon he’d given her. He nodded, trying to fight his smile. He was nervous, for sure, but also a bit excited.

She clicked the pen and in one swift motion, brought it down on the balloon, which deflated with a loud _pop_. Among the pieces of sad yellow rubber, her fingers closed around a tiny golden iridescent bag, the kind with two small ribbons holding it closed at the top. She looked up at Logan questioningly, her blue eyes curious and he suddenly was really really scared she wouldn’t like it. He gave a small nod as he tried to remember to breathe, urging her to go ahead.

She pulled the small bag open and dropped its content delicately in her palm. Sitting there was now a small round pendant, golden like the bag, barely bigger than a centimetre in diameter. She picked it up between her index and thumb, bringing it closer to her face to read the delicate inscription on either side. The first side she saw read, in tiny script, _I love you_. The second, _L &V_. She felt tears prickling at her eyes and smiled.

“Is it weird? I’m sorry if it’s weird. You’re not really a jewelry person, but I figured this you can slip along the chain of your necklace and wear it alongside. Or not.”

She looked up at him, stumbling over his words, and she leaned over the console to kiss him gratefully, lightly.

“It’s perfect.”

It was impossibly sweet, not a word Veronica often used in a positive way, and very dramatic, too. But it was also really adorable and thoughtful and she truly believed Logan had been careful choosing the pendant. Not too ostentatious or shiny, with just enough cliché in the inscription and thought into the fact that she didn’t wear jewelry besides Lilly’s necklace.

“Will you help me put it on?” she asked teasingly, angling her neck towards him so he’d unclasp her necklace.

He did, and carefully slid the pendant into the chain, making it land beside the little star.

“The L can stand for Lilly, if you want,” he said quickly as he helped her put the chain back on.

She turned to look to him, a smile on her lips and a light twinkling in her eyes.

“Don’t be silly, L,” she replied, leaning in for another kiss.

The nature of the gift denoted an acknowledgment that even if the summer was coming to an end, he didn’t think the feelings would be ending with it, and it was both reassuring and terrifying to Veronica. This was forever, a reminder for weeks and months and years to come that he loves her. The present tense, always frozen. Ongoing, every time she would look at it. _I love you_. His voice in her ear when she would be alone and far away. _I love you_. Burning against her heart, the words on her skin. _I love you_. It was overwhelming, how much this was, how much _not_ nothing it was to him. And it was the same to her. It was something she wanted to hold on to, a reminder that she hadn’t dreamt all of it up in a haze. A tiny round pendant, resting against her chest, behind the bedazzled star Lilly had given her. A real, tangible reminder that someone loved her, the real her, for a summer. And that he didn’t think it would stop there.

She was still thinking of everything it held, still holding back emotional tears, distractedly toying with the necklace, as they were back on the road, momentarily forgetting to keep trying to guess where they were going.

“How much did this cost you?” she asked after a few minutes.

“You know, it’s rude to ask about the price of a present,” he replied, poking fun at her.

“Yes, but –”

“Don’t worry about it, Veronica.” He looked over at her, his eyes soft. “Please. It’s your birthday.”

“Okay.”

He reached his hand away from the wheel, extending it to her knee. She laced their fingers together on her thigh. “Thank you. I don’t think I said it.”

“You didn’t, but your reaction was enough. It’ll be hard to beat _tears_ , but I’ll strive for that every time, now,” he grinned.

“I didn’t cry.”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded, dismissive. “I saw it.”

She rolled her eyes, opting not to further push it.

“Aaaand here we are,” Logan said, switching into parking gear. “Can’t believe you didn’t manage to weasel the information out of me.”

She looked outside the window. “We’re at the beach.”

He nodded, a bright smile on his face.

“Like ten minutes away from my house.”

He nodded again.

“We’ve been driving over half an hour.”

He smiled, not saying anything.

“You tricked me.”

“I did.” He looked very proud of himself, a smug look on his features.

“How did I not notice?” she muttered.

“I am somewhat of a driving expert and wonderful deceiver.”

She laughed, just a breath, smiling and shaking her head.

“You distracted me.”

“All part of the plan,” he said firmly, but she had noticed how nervous he’d been when she’d popped the balloon.

“And what’s next in this plan of yours?”

“To take you to the actual place we’re going. I just wanted to prove I could successfully trick you.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t. _You_ kissed me first, on this very beach. Well, over there,” he corrected, pointing to the water. “But same idea.”

“I did,” she nodded, and her tone should have told him she was plotting something.

She opened her car door and stepped outside.

“Where are you going?” Logan called, unbuckling his seatbelt and setting out after her.

“Come and find out! Maybe I’m as good a deceiver as you!” she replied, already toeing off her shoes and walking away backwards.

He ran to catch up to her, scooping her up in his arms just as the water was rising to meet their feet. She laughed and he spun her around, and the last time he had done that, merely a few metres away, came back to him. But this time the sun was so bright above them it was making her cascading blonde hair glow, and her carefree, happy, laughing face was strikingly visible to him when he put her down. Her head was still thrown back when her feet met the water, and she looked up at him, the memory reflected in her eyes. She teased her fingers along his chest, grabbing his shirt firmly before pulling him down to her. It was more playful than passionate, the laughter ringing in their ears as their tongues explored each other, carelessness getting the best of them, completely oblivious to the other beachgoers dispersed scarcely on the sand.

“Ready to go?” he asked after a few moments. He pushed away hair the wind had blown into her face, to see her gleeful eyes on him fully. _Selfish Logan_ , he thought, but he wanted to see all of her, everything she was giving him. Brushing away all the hair in the world to see the way she looked at him for one second longer. “Or we can drop everything and stay here. It’s your birthday, you choose.”

She pursed her lips and looked at him with what he could only describe as a mischievous innocence. _Uh oh_.

“Carry me to your car?” she asked, and he let out a breathy laugh. “It’s my birthday,” she added with a calculated shrug.

“Buckle up,” he said before immediately grabbing her legs to toss her over his shoulder, making her shriek in surprise. He was pretty sure he’d strained one muscle or other in the motion, but he kept on carrying her this way all the way to his car, even leaning down to retrieve her discarded shoes in the sand, trying not to topple them both over.

“Did all your Prince Charming fantasies come true?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he put her down.

“Almost.”

“What’s left?”

“The prince,” she replied with a grin and he stuck his hand to his heart, feigning shock.

“You wound me, Mars.”

“Bowling?” she asked, surprised.

“Do you hate bowling, Veronica Mars? Because that might be the one good reason for me to break up with you on your birthday.”

She laughed. “I don’t. But I haven’t been bowling in a while.”

“Me neither, I suck.”

She laughed again. “Then why bowling?”

“Could be fun.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. Couldn’t fault his logic for that one.

“You really do suck,” Veronica remarked, sipping on her drink and watching the ball fall into the gutter, again.

“Veronica, you have a 4-points lead. I don’t think you’re in any position to talk,” he replied, walking back to her.

She put her drink down and stood up. “Watch me,” she said into his ear, then pulled away with a sly smile.

He bit his lip and shook his head.

“Hey, can I taste this?” he asked, motioning to her fruity soda.

“Have you never had soda before?” she asked ironically, selecting a ball.

“It was just the polite way of asking. Must be foreign to you,” he teased.

“Yes, you can. I will not cry if you share my drink with me.”

“Maybe you don’t want my germs all over your straw.”

“How many times have I kissed you today?”

“More times than points you’ve scored during this game.”

“Just you watch,” she asserted, getting ready.

“Watch what?” he asked as the ball knocked down two pins.

She made a face at him, and he looked at her pointedly, taking a sip of her drink.

“I think even our combined scores are an embarrassment,” Veronica declared, looking at the screen once the game was over and she had managed to win, a few measly points ahead of him.

“You’re probably right. It was fun, though, right?”

“Yes.”

“There’s another stop before dinner?”

“Unless you want to go home.”

“Well, now that you mention it…” she sighed, drawing out a long, fake yawn. Then it actually turned into a real yawn and she giggled. “Someone _did_ wake me up early, lest he forget it,” she amended, pointing at him.

He took hold of her index and brought it to his lips. “He won’t.”

“Where is he bringing his girlfriend next?”

“Hasn’t she figured it out?” He kissed her finger again, his touch light as air. “That’s 3 for 3.”

“Maybe he’s better at this than she thought.”

“Is she having a nice birthday?”

“The best.”

He tugged on her finger to bring her forward, and she draped her arms on his shoulders, puckering her lips for a light kiss from the tip of her lips.

Ten minutes later, they were walking through room after room of aquariums, some floor to ceiling and others smaller and enclosed in the walls.

“And here we enter the deadly room,” Veronica uttered in a low, hoarse, masculine voice.

They had come face to face with crabs. Or, face to… shell? Did crabs have a face? What was that part with their eyes called?

“They don’t generally spring through the glass. Plexiglas. Whatever that is,” Logan replied, resting his knuckle on the side of the aquarium.

“I see you’re bravely defying death. You really _are_ a bad boy.”

“Won’t let it take me today. Wouldn’t that be poetic though? If I died on your birthday?”

“No, that would be morbid and quite possibly the best way to ruin the day forever.”

“Aw, would you miss me?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, I would move on in a heartbeat from my dead boyfriend and celebrate his death day every year with balloons and confetti,” she deadpanned.

“Good, I’d hate for my funeral to be bleak. When you plan it, make sure everyone wears something colourful. And has a lot to drink.”

“Are you seriously asking me to plan your funeral?” she asked, laughing.

“It wasn’t premeditated, but yes. Yes, you shall plan my funeral, Veronica Mars.”

“Hopefully I won’t have to.”

“It’s a lifelong invitation.”

“Still hope I won’t have to.”

The conversation was taking a slightly macabre and serious turn she hadn’t anticipated, and it made her uncomfortable. They had continued walking, but she hadn’t taken the time to properly observe the crustaceans. But that wasn’t the exhibition she was looking forward to.

Logan probably decided not to push the subject, and himself was surprised at his own words. It had all just come out of his mouth without a second thought. This… thing, with Veronica, he knew it was supposed to be one summer. Three months, in a small town in Maine, far from everything. Then he would be back in Los Angeles, she’d be back in Neptune, and it would all boil back down to a wistful dream, a nostalgic picture book of emotions he could open up again and revisit in the years to come. He’d go back to real life, she wouldn’t be a part of it, she had her own shit to deal with. But why did it feel like he would be leaving behind the most real part of his life when he went back to his supposedly real life? More and more, he was convinced this was it, for the long run. At least inside of him, at least in his feelings. Maybe she would be gone, maybe she would be happy with the picture book and the goodbye hugs, satisfied for a lifetime by a fleeting summer tryst that one year she needed to escape Neptune. But he wouldn’t be. He knew he’d let her go if she wanted to go, but he also knew he wouldn’t move on, forget her, not yet. Not soon. He wanted to think not ever, but that felt too stifling. Too sad. Too tragic. He was only seventeen, for crying out loud.

And so maybe that was why there was something in him that was sure she’d still be around when he died. Whenever that was. Because right then, a lifetime without Veronica sounded like a lifetime without air. Without substance, without any interest, without a reason to pursue it. She was the wind, blowing into the sail of the small boat bobbing on the ocean, giving it a purpose and a direction, keeping it from staying still and drowning, overtaken by hunger and thirst and waves he shouldn’t trust. The boat _existed_ without her, and it was surviving. But for how long? And why bother, if it was going to stay stagnant and bored? It felt dangerous to think those thoughts, like he was setting himself up for some tragedy by transposing these grandiose and improbably dramatic scenarios onto a relationship with an expiration date.

He looked over at Veronica, her fingers loosely hooked with his own, her hair cascading lazily in golden waves over her shoulders, observing. Observing the fish, observing the people milling about, observing how the crowds flowed like waves. It was a bad metaphor. A bad comparison. Too easy. And yet… It stuck out.

“Over there are the jellyfish,” he spoke up, pointing right.

She looked up giddily and almost knocked him over in redirecting herself towards the one room she had been longing to see. What was it about Veronica and jellyfish? Hard to say, Logan thought, but there was a sense of fittingness to it. Jellyfish were eerily beautiful, in a graceful but deadly manner, for a lot of them. Their sting was pernicious, sometimes one didn’t even have to touch the jellyfish to be hit with the venom, just be in the periphery. That certainly seemed fitting for Veronica. Deceptively dangerous, cunning and innocently preying on her surroundings.

A joy to observe.

Better in the dark with only the light purplish glow illuminating them starkly against the water.

And, yes, it was with that kind of amazement mixed with enthusiasm and disbelief, full of admiration, that he saw her. Exactly the way she was gazing at a group of minuscule jellyfish, barely bigger than her nail.

“Logan, look, they’re so cute!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cute?” he asked. Veronica didn’t do cute. But it _was_ cute when she was all but cooing at deadly animals in a fish tank.

“In a killer way.”

Ah. That was more like it.

“Irukandji jellyfish,” he read from the plate beside Veronica. “’Their sting is a thousand times stronger than that of a tarantula.’ Typical.”

“Typical?” she laughed.

“That those would be the ones who catch your attention.”

“Are you saying I’m a thousand times deadlier than a tarantula?”

He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead.

“Yes. And also tiny and adorable. And shockingly beautiful.”

She smiled. She idly wondered if she had ever smiled so much, and so carelessly, as when she was spending her days with Logan. Her smiles didn’t feel like they needed to be earned, or carefully counted, like they did usually. He just made them appear. And there were always more to come, tucked away for later, her supply never ending. He wouldn’t let her run out.

“I’m just saying I liked the Pelagia. The purple streaks make them elegant. Majestic, even if they’re small.”

“The Irukandji were majestic too,” she argued.

“Hard to be majestic when you’re this long,” Logan replied, spreading his thumb and forefinger apart, just a tiny bit. “And I liked the iru-whatever too. I don’t _have_ to have the same favourite as you. They’re jellyfish.”

She pouted. “But those jellyfish are like me. I’m not your favourite?”

“Oh, I see what’s happening here,” he murmured, reaching out to pull her back to his chest, hobbling awkwardly behind her and kissing her neck.

“And what’s that?”

“You’re scared I’ll run off with a Pelagia girl.”

She snorted, then dissolved into laughter, doubling over giggling. She had to stop walking to regain her breath. “I’m terrified,” she finally said, looking up at him and trying not to start laughing again.

Her shoulders were still shaking when they walked towards his car.

“You think I can’t land a Pelagia?” he asked, unlocking his door and looking at her over the roof. “Because I totally can.”

“The Pelagia is easy to land. The Irukandji are the challenge.”

“Then what’s the problem? I managed _that_.”

“Did you?” she asked, and slipped into her side of the car before he could answer.

He got in and turned on the ignition before turning to her. “Pretty sure I did,” he said softly.

“Yeah, you did,” she sighed. Almost like she wished he hadn’t.

“Is that going to be accepted as future reference to my success or will I need a signed proof?”

“What about this,” she said conspiratorially, gripping his chin between her thumb and index finger, bringing him to her. “Hopefully that’ll be enough for both parties to remember.” And she kissed him, slowly moving her jaw, slowly opening her mouth, slowly encircling his tongue with her own. Slowly imprinting every movement into their sensory memory. For future reference.

“I should’ve guessed that one.”

“ _I_ think you gave up.”

“I didn’t! I got distracted.”

“Distracted by my effortless charm? Happens to me all the time,” Logan nodded.

“No, it was the jellyfish. They beat you in the charm department.” She gave an overly contented sigh. “I just can’t stop thinking about them.”

He touched the tip of her nose. “Get out of the car, smartypants.”

“Why, they don’t do takeout?” she asked innocently.

“You’d have to perform a dance for them to let you. Don’t think I wouldn’t enjoy seeing that – but I have an underlying suspicion that wasn’t in your plans for the day.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, deciding whether he was making it up.

“If anyone in there tries to sing me happy birthday and get _anyone_ to join in, I will kill you,” she said instead, grabbing her bag and opening the door.

“That’s the spirit.”

Logan had arranged for them to be sitting at the exact table at which they’d sat when he had taken her there for the first (and up until then, only) time. It was the nice beachside restaurant where he’d insisted for them to have their first official date, and it felt like a safe choice for a birthday dinner. A little sentimental value as opposed to the more or less random choices for the afternoon – it had been the only way for him to make sure she wouldn’t guess.

Veronica, strangely predictable, ordered exactly the same thing as the previous time. It was endearing to him how, despite her generally hard to predict behaviour, well hidden moods and the careful secrecy she used to envelop herself, her food habits were ridiculously redundant. He wasn’t all that much of an adventurer himself – he had been in Maine nearly 13 weeks and had still never had ice cream that wasn’t Rocky Road or the one taste of Veronica’s caramel – but he did occasionally change it up. This time, for example, he took the sweet potato fries as a side. Diving right into the unknown.

“Are we boring?” Veronica mused after they’d ordered.

“Us? Never. We went to the aquarium. That’s for rebels.”

“Mhmm… what about the other days?”

“Is this your way of telling me you’re bored of me?”

“No!”

“I’m just kidding, relax. What, do you think we should be having adventures?”

“The most adventurous thing we did was failing to sneak into the lighthouse. Well, technically, I did manage it.”

“Just not all the way. Hey, we also drove all the way to Portland in your car. That’s a thrill. Never know if you’ll make it back.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Boys with bright yellow cars have no right to judge others’ cars.”

“You seem to have taken quite a liking to the bright yellow car. It’s the backseat, isn’t it?” he asked in a stage whisper. “Can’t resist the pull of the backseat.”

“It does have its charm…” she said noncommittally, and he nodded, pretending to believe her offhandedness.

“So, what, you want to go all out for the next week, go skydiving and skinny dipping and learn taekwondo and pottery? Make it all memorable?”

She didn’t answer, pursing her lips. That was the thing, she didn’t, not really. The whole summer, they hadn’t really done much, except the occasional hiccup, or trip to the mall. It was nothing that stood out, nothing she’d be explaining in detail to her friends back at school when they asked what she had been up to. Lilly’s visit, nearly two months previously, was the biggest event that had transpired. The rest had been… slow. Calm. Little moments, stolen looks from the corner of her eyes, fingers brushing away her hair, caramel ice cream, nights on a deserted beach, a stupid blinding car, a pack of gummy worms shared behind the mall, opening her windows so her father wouldn’t find out what had transpired, wind stinging her eyes, strands of grass knotted aimlessly, her soft hair fanned out on a broad chest, eyelashes brushing cheeks, lips whispering secrets just for them to keep. Through all of it, Logan, Logan, Logan, everywhere. On the beach, in the field, between her hands, on her lips, holding her up, pinning her down, around her, beside her. Logan. There wasn’t one moment, there was a flow. There wasn’t an adventure, there was a continuous thrill. There wasn’t a rush, there was the quiet growing promise that this would get better and stronger with every single day.

“No,” she finally said.

She didn’t need anything more to make it memorable. It was already in her mind, anchored in her thoughts, written down in fine print on a piece of paper folded neatly and tucked into a secret drawer. She had the key, she knew the code. To hell with what it looked like after taking a step back. With her two feet right into it, she was _ecstatic_ and knew that no matter what, she wouldn’t forget the moments she spent that summer.

If he wasn’t on the other side of the table, she would have crawled onto Logan’s lap and hugged him close, as close as she could, breathing him in. Instead, she reached out for his hand and squeezed it, trying to say _everything_ with it. She imagined she wasn’t too far off when she saw his eyes soften. He knew.

“I’m told you have what one would call a sweet tooth.”

“Gee, what tipped you off?”

“I’m very observant,” Logan quipped. “There’s somewhere I thought we could go for dessert. Are you tired?” he asked after a second. “We can just drive home if you’re too tired.”

“No way, it’s my birthday! I’m ready to party alllll night,” Veronica replied, grabbing his arm.

“I was told all night wasn’t an option.”

“I’m afraid you were told right. But,” she continued, trailing her fingers up his arm and nuzzling her nose to his neck, “I’m amenable. I’m willing to shift those nighttime plans to… now.”

He swallowed, looking down at her, his pace slowing considerably through the parking lot.

“Now?” he asked, eyes wide.

“We can do dessert later,” she murmured, running her lips on his skin, her eyes so bright and blue in contrast to all the darkness around them.

“Veronica, do you mean…” he trailed off, not wanting to voice it out loud even if the way her fingers were weaving around his arm and torso left little doubt.

“Hm? Wasn’t that in your plans? We talked about this,” she practically purred into his neck and it took him all the strength he had to keep a coherent thought pattern and not fall into a puddle on the ground, in the middle of a deserted parking lot.

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t want to assume – ”

“Shit, am I –” she started, leaning away from him slightly.

“No,” he interrupted her, taking hold of her hips and kissing her temple slowly. “I didn’t want to push you. I didn’t know if you were serious. Just because it happened once doesn’t mean you’d want it to happen again.”

“It happened more than once,” she breathed against his skin, and he almost groaned, both at her words and at the memories.

“Logic still stands,” Logan panted.

“If anyone comes here, we’re going to get run over,” he added with a chuckle.

They were approaching his car, but much, much slower than one usually did. She continued her ministrations on his neck – he knew that was going to leave a mark – until they reached the Xterra.

“The back of your car sounds really great, right about now,” she moaned into his ear as he fumbled to find his keys.

“Fuck, Veronica…” He held her up against the side of the car, his body flush with hers, kissing her lips, at last having his attention on her. He finally managed to find his keys and unlock the doors, never taking his arm from around her.

They stumbled inside, slamming the car door behind them, and Logan reached to pull the seats down before he set Veronica down on them. He nibbled at her jaw, eliciting a moan, and kissed her right below her ear before pulling away.

“Hey, where are you going?” she asked, breathy, reaching to him and pushing herself up.

“Glove compartment,” he panted, elongating his arm to reach over the seats.

She was tugging on his pants when he faced her again, mission complete, and he couldn’t help the chuckle forming in his throat.

“What would you like, Veronica?” he asked.

She groaned. “You. Now.”

He pressed his lips to hers, once, leaning down on her, her back to the seats, his knees on either side of her hips.

“Be more precise,” he breathed. “It’s your birthday, you get… whatever… you… like,” he continued, punctuating each word with a kiss. “But you have to ask for it.”

“Take that off,” she decided, yanking at every piece of clothing of his she could get her hands on.

“And what next?” he asked, working on his belt.

She brought her lips to his ear and hummed, “Devour me.”

Logan felt heat flare up in every nerve of his body. That could be arranged.

“Hmm… I was promised dessert,” he heard her voice from beside him, in between loud breaths.

He laughed. “You suck at pillow talk. Unless that was a euphemism, which I’m guessing it isn’t.”

“No pillows to inspire me,” she shrugged, pointing at his head directly on the car seat as she leaned up on her elbow to look down to him.

He huffed another laugh and reached up to her cheek to bring her down to kiss him.

“Can’t have me breaking my promises on your birthday, can we?”

“Nope,” Veronica replied, popping the p and smiling wide.

“Might want to grab your clothes. I wouldn’t object to the show, but I have a feeling others might.”

He sat up and reached for his own discarded shirt, tossing Veronica her bra. Doing so, he noticed the package in the trunk. He grabbed it and brought it to her lap.

“Almost forgot. Happy birthday.”

He smooched her cheek, continuing to get dressed and turning on the light on the ceiling when she had wiggled her bra on and started to inspect the gift.

“You got me another gift?”

He nodded, a smile tugging on his lips, watching her lightly shake the present, bringing it to her ear. She felt along the edges, trying to guess.

“Just open it.”

She turned it around a few more times, but eventually tore the wrapping paper. She uncovered an envelope and lifted it to find a picture frame. She gave a small laugh, almost a gasp, bringing it closer to the ceiling light. The frame was simple and sleek, black and thin, and the picture… She had taken it, she remembered. She had tried to set up the timer of her camera, test it out, but balancing it properly and getting in the frame in time was not easy, not at the beach. She’d been practically running to where Logan was waiting for her, spraying sand everywhere. He wasn’t even looking at the camera, even if he’d had the time she had lacked. No, he was looking at her, completely oblivious to anything else, arms around her waist and kissing the top of her head, smiling. She was laughing, and she could almost hear the sound, frozen in time, as her foot had slipped and he’d had to hold her up. A few seconds later, they had found themselves on the ground. But the camera had flashed before, leaving them in an uneasy balance forever. Leaving her blissful like she had felt so many times that summer, lost in the moment, and leaving him looking at her adoringly.

Veronica looked up at him, gazing at her the exact same way he was in the picture, and grabbed the back of his neck to kiss him sweetly.

“Thank you.”

“Just to make sure you remember the unmemorable moments.”

“You should write.”

“I write,” he said, pointing at the envelope. “You can read it when I’m gone.”

“When you’re gone, like, tonight or when you’re gone, like, back to California?”

“You’re going back to California before me,” he pointed out. “I meant tonight, but if you want to wait next week, it’s your call.”

“We’ll see,” and she kissed him again. “How did you get this? I thought it was still in my camera’s memory.”

“I may or may not have snuck out the memory card when I was over at your house, and slipped it back into your bag the next day.”

“You distracted me with sex,” she fake-gasped.

“Yeah, I slept with you just so I could sneak out your camera’s SD card for your birthday.”

She laughed. “I didn’t even notice.”

“You were otherwise preoccupied that day,” he replied, ducking to kiss her cheek.

“Well, you may just give Mars Investigations a run for its money.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“No,” she agreed.

She placed her finger under his chin and brought his already open mouth to hers.

“You still up for dessert?”

“Child, please,” she scoffed.

“How am I supposed to choose?” Veronica moaned, looking at the menu.

Logan placed his head on her shoulder to get a look.

“Just pick the chocolate caramel lava cake, we both know you want it.”

“What are you taking?”

“Vanilla cupcake.”

“That’s, like, the worst thing on this menu.”

“Don’t you think I’m a bit of a vanilla cupcake myself?”

“I do not see a single thing you have in common with a vanilla cupcake.”

“Alright, then, I’ll have the devil’s food cake. It’s all your fault.”

She snorted. “You were going to order that all along.”

He ignored her. “So, are you done choosing? Because if this goes on any longer, I’ll tell them it’s your birthday.”

“You wouldn’t!”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I very much would.”

“I’ll have the chocolate caramel lava cake,” she mumbled.

“Perfect!”

Logan walked up to the counter to order, winking at her.

“I believe this is as far as the plans go,” Logan declared when they were both settled back in his car.

Veronica pouted. “I don’t want it to be over.”

“Me neither,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her. But he wasn’t talking about her birthday and she knew it.

She took his face in her hands, again, capturing him like every time to make sure he wouldn’t run away. Reminding herself that every one of those kisses, she wanted. That, every time, she could choose to let go, and didn’t.

She had been kissing Logan all day, but every time made her heart flutter, like the butterflies hadn’t gotten the memo that they’d all been through this several times already. She breathed in, her fingers clutching his hair tighter, and he gave a small gasp. His hands traced the length of her back, she felt her shirt wrinkle under his touch as he reached the base of her neck to bring her closer. _Damn_ him and his hands and his lips and his perfect kisses and his entire body that fit so perfectly next to hers. She was going to go absolutely insane, and it was all his fault. She could still taste the chocolate on his tongue, and she ate it all up, greedily, not asking for permission, because he gave and gave and gave and, oh, suddenly he was taking her bottom lip between his teeth and maybe it was her turn to give but wow it felt just as good. It was delicious, and had his hands always been so soft, so tender, so gentle? There was no way she was getting out of there, nuh-uh. She would stay like this, right against him, rivaling him for who could keep the taste of chocolate the longest, his impossible hands on the back of her neck keeping her warm and safe and protected, probably forever. But it looked like Logan hadn’t gotten the message she thought she had been conveying pretty clearly either, as slow with communication as the butterflies still somehow migrating or something down in her stomach, because he removed his lips from hers, which was rude, and tenderly rested his forehead against hers, which was a lot less rude. She touched the tip of her nose to his, letting the gesture ask the question for her. _This is nice, but what about we go back to what we were doing before?_ her scrunched nose asked, playful.

“The evening is flowing dangerously close to the night, and I’d hate for your father to shoot me when I bring his daughter home later than promised,” his mouth answered.

“There was no promised time.”

“’Not the whole night’ was what I was given.”

“And we’re not even close,” she whispered.

“We’re half an hour away from your house.”

“It’s more than half an hour ‘till sunrise.”

“Somehow I think right before sunrise isn’t going to cut it.”

“Fine.”

He pecked her lips and peeled himself from her. “Ready?”

“No,” she smirked.

“Veronica Mars, you’re lucky I like you so much.”

“Why?”

“Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t care what your father thinks of me and I would succumb to your charms.”

“That’s messed up. Why am I lucky you _won’t_ succumb to my charms?”

“Because it means you get to see me again tomorrow,” he smirked.

“A proper courtship, then,” she replied.

“Precisely.”

“That’s sweet, but the idea is a bit tainted by the fact that we got _very_ intimate right here like an hour ago.”

“And that doesn’t mean you won’t need to work to bed me again,” he declared, not wiping the smirk off his face.

“Who says I want to?”

“Harsh.”

She laughed. “Okay, let’s go, flyboy.”

Logan got out of the car before Veronica, going around to open her door for her.

“That’s new,” she noticed.

“I want to make sure you do want to see me again tomorrow.”

“You’re not doing such a bad job so far. I’ll let you know what I decide.”

“Hm, please do,” he answered, kissing her.

“If you don’t want my dad to shoot you, you may want to avoid any more of that.”

“Right.”

He took a step back and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

“Will that do?” he asked, a hoarse whisper.

“I’m sure he appreciates it.”

She smiled and walked up the steps, turning around to give him a last wave before going inside.

“Did you have a nice evening, honey?” her father greeted her.

“Very nice,” she assured. “I especially liked the stop at the strip club.”

“What’s that in your hand?” he asked, opting to ignore her quip.

She sat down next to him on the couch and handed him the frame, keeping the envelope on her lap.

“It’s a great picture,” Keith remarked. “Did you take it?”

“Well, the camera kind of took it on its own, but yeah.”

“He’s a nice kid,” Keith offered, patting his daughter’s knee.

“Yeah,” she agreed, “he is.”

Once she got to her room, she sat crossed legged on her bed, contemplating the envelope in her hands. She wanted to save it for later, for when she wasn’t going to see Logan the very next day, but the temptation was too strong, and besides, those were birthday wishes. It made sense to read them today, right?

She carefully unsealed the envelope, sliding out the simple card. She opened it to line upon line of surprisingly even letters. Logan liked to project his bad boy image, and she was sure most people who saw him every day back home wholeheartedly believed he was the kind of guy who would scribble a few generic sentences with just enough of a romantic twist to make it sound like he was the perfect boyfriend. Somewhat attentive, but still not _sappy_. But what Veronica discovered in dark blue ink on thick white paper was exactly the Logan she knew. Definitely a bit sappy. But mostly someone who had a lot to feel, a lot of emotion to pour out, and who found a way to say every part of it, if not directly. If somewhat unconventionally, she added mentally when she got to a passage where he described them as epic. _Spanning years and continents; lives ruined and bloodshed_. She snorted, but inwardly thought it was sweet, in an over-the-top way. She wondered if he’d had a drink or two to get the courage to coax the words out of himself.

In the end, it didn’t matter, because everything about the words exuded Logan, like he was whispering everything in her ear, from the “happy birthday, bobcat” tenderly spelled out at the very beginning to the “love, Logan” hastily scrawled at the end in the tight remaining space. The thought made shivers run down her spine. A love letter. She had received a love letter, and she suddenly wished she had a fancy beribboned box inside of which to place it. A box her grandchildren would one day find in the attic, reading the words addressed just to her, not understanding just how much weight they carried.

She picked up her phone from her bedside table.

 **_V. Mars, 11:56PM:_ ** _You passed the test. You’re getting a second date ;)_

 ** _L. Echolls, 11:59PM:_** _I was getting worried._

 **_L. Echolls, 11:59PM:_ ** _See you tomorrow, then_

 **_V. Mars, 12:00AM:_ ** _Counting the minutes xx_

She bit her lip and hid her face in her hands. This was so unlike her. Xx, _really_?

 **_L. Echolls, 12:01AM:_ ** _I was going to say happy birthday, but I just missed my window_

 **_V. Mars, 12:01AM:_ ** _Iwon’t complain if we declare today my birthday too_

 **_L. Echolls, 12:02AM:_ ** _Sounds like a trap_

 **_V. Mars, 12:03AM:_ ** _Isn’t everything?_

 **_L. Echolls, 12:03AM:_ ** _I’m starting to think that with you it is_

 **_L. Echolls, 12:04AM:_ ** _Happy BELATED birthday, bobcat_

 **_V. Mars, 12:05AM:_ ** _Sleep tight_

 **_L. Echolls, 12h05AM:_ ** _What are you wearing?_

 **_V. Mars, 12h06AM:_ ** _I believe that’s called sexting, and I am not partaking_

 **_V. Mars, 12h07AM:_ ** _Well, okay_

 **_V. Mars, 12h07AM:_ ** _My white pjs_

 **_L. Echolls, 12h08AM:_ ** _The see-through tank top and tiny shorts??_

 **_V. Mars, 12h08AM:_ ** _:)_

 **_L. Echolls, 12h09AM:_ ** _WON’T be sleeping tight_

 **_V. Mars, 12h10AM:_ ** _Fair is fair. What are YOU wearing?_

 **_L. Echolls, 12h11AM:_ ** _Will you believe me if I say nothing?_

 **_V. Mars, 12h11AM:_ ** _You mean if you say “nothing”?_

 **_V. Mars, 12h11AM:_ ** _No_

 **_L. Echolls, 12h12AM:_ ** _But now the image is in your head and you’ll sleep as tightly as me_

 **_V. Mars, 12h13AM:_ ** _That’s diabolical_

 **_L. Echolls, 12h14AM:_ ** _The last time I was wearing nothing it was entirely your doing, so I think it’s fair :)_

 **_V. Mars, 12h15AM:_ ** _Good night, Logan_

 **_L. Echolls, 12h15AM:_ ** _Good night, Veronica_

She smiled at her phone and wished it wasn’t already another day. Only 7 left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The formatting for the text messages at the end didn't translate all too well from my Word document to this... I tried to fix it, I hope it's understandable, and if not I'm sorry!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

**_I can see us_ **

**_Twisted in bedsheets_ **

**_August sipped away like a bottle of wine_ **

“We need to talk about this.”

“Yes,” Logan answered, not looking up from _that_ spot on her neck that drove her crazy when he so much as breathed against it.

“I’m serious. I’m leaving in three days, Logan.”

He pressed one last kiss to her collarbone and sighed, pulling away to look at her.

“I know.”

“I’ll go back to Neptune. You’ll go back to L.A. … and then what? Is it goodbye? Just… thanks for the summer, see you maybe one day?”

“Is that what you want it to be?”

“No,” she croaked. “But maybe it’s what’s better for us.”

“How is it better?”

He ran his thumb along the side of her face, trying to meet her eye. She didn’t want to, she was scared that if she looked at him, let herself get lost in the expressive brown torrent, she wouldn’t be able to think logically, make sensical decisions. She was scared that she would start crying and just hold on to him and hope that if she didn’t let go, it would never end.

“You don’t break my heart, I don’t break yours, we end it on our own terms. We end it on a high note, and then we can look back at it with a smile.”

“It’s a bit too late to hope you won’t break my heart. Any option where you’re not here will break my heart.”

“Logan…”

“I’m not saying, we’ll drive every weekend the distance from Neptune to L.A. and go on dinner dates and meet up after school. I’m just saying that we shouldn’t toss away something that’s good. This is good, right?”

“It’s good,” she nodded. “But I don’t want it poisoned. I don’t want to resent you because you’re calling at the wrong time or you bailed on the one date of the month or I’m too busy for you or we have a stupid fight and we’re too far away to fix it properly and it all just rots.”

“We’re going to have fights. I know that, you know that. We’re us, Veronica, we are going to fight so much. But I don’t want to fight with anyone else. Well, maybe a little. There’s a couple of guys I don’t mind punching once in a while.”

She had a laugh that was more of a smile and exhale.

“That, I’d like to see.”

“So stick around.”

She felt the tears coming, so she nodded, _yes, okay, why did I even think of not sticking around_ , and took his face into her hands – _this is one of the last times I can do this, can I memorize every curve and every edge in the next few seconds so I can keep it forever?_ – to kiss him.

“But what does it mean?” she asked, resting her forehead in his. “How does it work? How do I stick around in your life?”

“How do you want to stick around in my life?”

“Like this,” she said, gesturing at the two of them, tangled together. “But I can’t.”

“I don’t want to hold you back,” he whispered. “I want you all to myself, forever, _like this_ , but I know that’s not fair.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” she asked, alarmed. Hadn’t they just said they weren’t breaking up?

“No. Yes. Veronica… I’ll be far away. And you’ll have all those people around you, and if you want to… if you want to have a boyfriend you can actually see and touch and kiss and there’s someone back in Neptune who could be that…”

“There’s _no one_ in Neptune who could be that,” she said forcefully. “Is there someone _you_ want to date in California?”

“Don’t be mean,” he replied, soft. Too soft. It broke her heart. She bit her lip, sheepish. “I’d wait a million fucking years for you, Veronica. You know that.”

Would he, though? Veronica couldn’t help but wonder for a moment. Girls were attracted to Logan. Hell, _women_ were attracted to Logan. With nothing locking him up, he wouldn’t wait for her, she knew. And maybe it was only fair to him to let him have that. It wasn’t fair to him to keep him chained to her when she was away, when she was busy. She knew, she _knew_ there would be times where she’d be too wrapped up in some case or other, or in schoolwork, and wouldn’t realize she was pushing him away. He didn’t deserve that.

But she couldn’t tell him that. He wanted to do this to set her free, but he was the one who needed the freedom. He saw it as a choice, a conscious choice, to be hers, but she didn’t. It was a trap, a big box he would be stuck in, a box with _Veronica’s_ written in big Sharpie letters on the side. But she didn’t want to open his eyes to that, so she just said, “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asked, searching her for clarification.

She looked up to him, really looked at him, for the first time since the beginning of the conversation, and was grateful her eyes weren’t as expressive as his, open books to his soul, or he’d call her bluff.

“We stay in contact. We stay in each other’s lives. But no strings attached.”

“No strings attached,” he nodded, and she saw a bit of relief in between specks of sadness in his eyes. “Starting when you leave.”

“Of course starting when I leave. You’re all mine until then,” she decided with a small kiss.

“I’m all yours until then,” he nodded. _I’m all yours possibly forever_ , he thought.

“And I’m all yours,” she added in a whisper. Just to reassure him.

He closed his eyes, hugged her to him. 3 days. How the heck had it all slipped away so quickly?

“Are all your bags ready, honey?”

“Almost.”

Veronica zipped up her backpack and looked around her now empty room. They would be leaving the next day, right after lunch – one last lobster roll before going back to California, Keith had said, and Veronica had agreed because she hadn’t really had any lobster rolls during her time in Maine – and she was almost ready to go. Physically, all her things were neatly folded, arranged in her bags and suitcases. Mentally… it was a whole other story.

She grabbed her backpack, leaving all the other bags neatly piled together beside her bedroom door. She hoped her dad wouldn’t ask too many questions. She was pretty sure he knew what was going on in her mind, where she was going. That she needed this. Hoped he wouldn’t interfere.

“Don’t wait up for me tonight,” she said lightly when she walked through the living room on her way to the front door.

“Stay safe.”

“I will.”

Yeah, he definitely knew.

The sun was starting to set when she pulled up at the Davis House. _The Echolls’ house, I guess_ , she thought. She didn’t make her way to the house immediately, looking out at the water, lapping at the cliffside, the pink and orange light giving it an eerie glow. Her last sunset of the summer. She unexpectedly wished she had taken the time to appreciate more of them.

Light footsteps on the grass caught her attention, and she saw Logan walking towards her, smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey there, bobcat.” His enthusiasm fell flat.

Veronica walked the last few steps separating them and weaved her arms around his waist like she had done so many times before, her head on his chest to look out to the water, wistful.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, stroking her head before setting his cheek down on it. “Don’t be sad,” he murmured.

Somehow that made her even sadder. She held him tighter.

They stayed like this long minutes, letting the wind carry to them the sounds of the ocean, unmoving as the sun sank beneath the waves excruciatingly slowly. It was Logan who broke the silence again. “Do you want to come inside?” he asked when he saw goosebumps along her arms.

She nodded and pulled back to look at him. He looked tired, just a smidge, and sad, more than he really wanted to show. She brought her hand to his cheek and he took hold of it, bringing her knuckles to his lips. God, they really were pathetic.

“I’ll get my bag,” she said, her first words since she’d arrived.

Logan nodded, keeping her fingers in his, stretching his arm until she was too far to keep holding on.

“Enough with the sadness,” she declared when she came back, as they were heading to the house together. “Let’s just forget that it’s the last night. The last hours. Let’s just be you and me and have fun and joke around.” _Because it’s scary how sad it can make me to even think of leaving, when you’re right there._

“Your dad wouldn’t be letting you spend the night at your boyfriend’s house if it wasn’t the last day,” he pointed out.

“Good, humour! But bad choice of subject,” she replied, the little spark in her eye reigniting.

“Right, sorry. So, which Rice Krispies character is the best and why is it Crackle?”

“You don’t actually expect me to know the difference between the little cartoons drawn on the side of cereal boxes, do you?”

“What did you do during breakfast, growing up, if not observe cereal boxes?”

“Eat and grumble about how I’d rather be sleeping.”

“After you,” he said, opening the door. “See,” he continued, “that’s where you failed. Kids should be trying to get _out_ of sleeping.”

“What can I say, I was a special child.”

“What a surprise.”

“Did you ever want to have more siblings?” Veronica asked Logan. Anything to keep them from conversations that were too serious.

“More than an older adopted half-sister with delusions of grandeur and too much self importance to give me any proper attention? Not really. I figured they’d all be like her.”

“The two of you really don’t get along, huh?”

Logan shrugged. “Trina’s… Trina. We’re the opposite sides of a ‘celebrity’s kid’ coin: she adores the attention; I avoid all cameras and press. That doesn’t cohabit necessarily well.”

Veronica hummed, frowning as she tried to best him at the thumb war they had going on. It was game number 7, and she had lost every single one.

“I have longer thumbs than you, you’re never going to win,” Logan pointed out. She huffed, showing no sign of giving up, so he continued the conversation instead. “What about you? You wanted siblings?”

“For a while. Three sisters, so we could be our own Little Women.”

“The Mars sisters?” he asked with a laugh.

“Fitting, isn’t it?” she grinned. “But that obviously didn’t happen, and it’s probably for the best. Imagine the chaos in a house with 4 girls.”

“Especially 4 versions of you.”

She glared at him.

“So, what,” he continued, “in this version of your family, you would be Meg March? I can’t quite picture it.”

“You’ve read Little Women?”

“Of course I’ve read Little Women. I think I even brought it here,” he added, looking around his cluttered room, as if he could find anything in that mess, sitting on the floor in the middle of a thumb war with his girlfriend.

“Well then, which one do you think I am?”

He thought for a second. “Somewhere between Jo and Amy.”

She seemed to agree. “I do have a bit of Meg, though.”

“What bit?”

“Meg has a thing for boys with brown eyes,” she said, looking up from their joined hands and into the brown eyes that had charmed _her_.

“Good taste, Meg.”

“And Meg has blue eyes.”

“Wait, that rings a bell.”

She rolled her eyes – her blue eyes – with a small laugh.

“Is your mom okay with me staying over? I don’t want it to be weird.”

“Yeah, like that would make you pack up and leave.”

She stared him down.

“Dick and I have sleepovers all the time,” he replied. “She’s fine with it.”

“Logan.”

“It was kind of understood that she would leave us alone and not ask any questions. We have that kind of mother-son relationship where we don’t talk at length about each other’s sex life. Weird, I know.”

She snorted.

“Really, she likes you. She knows you’re leaving tomorrow. Which I’m not supposed to say, I know, but it’s an important point to the current discussion. So, she won’t come knocking. And she’ll keep to other parts of the house. So we don’t feel trapped, she said.”

“Sounds like you _do_ discuss your sex life with your mom,” Veronica smirked.

“ _Please_ , no. I like to think of that as her being concerned for my privacy.”

“Or she doesn’t want to hear what you’ll be up to.”

“What, are you planning on being loud?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Depends how good you are.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Or a distraction,” she replied, and it took him a second too long to catch on, she had already held down his thumb firmly. “I win,” she said, a satisfied smile on her face.

“You won one game out of 7.”

“Best out of 15?” she suggested.

“I only need two more victories.”

“That you won’t have.”

“You’ll distract me enough times to win this thing? You can try.”

“Watch me.”

“Oh, I’m watching.”

“I’m half convinced stripping is illegal in a thumb war.”

“That wasn’t preestablished,” Veronica replied, climbing on top of him on his bed and kissing the corner of his lips. “And I didn’t see you complaining.”

“Hmm, I wasn’t,” he replied, kissing her bare shoulder. “Just an observation.” He trailed his fingers along her waist. Her skin was magnetic.

“It worked, didn’t it? I won.”

“I’d say I won too,” he replied in a hoarse voice, looking up at her, wearing only her underwear.

“That’s a relationship. Win-win,” Veronica smiled against his collarbone. “You know what’s also good in a relationship?”

“What?”

“Equality.” She slipped both her hands under the hem of his shirt and slid it up his torso. “Take that off.”

“Feeling bossy?” he asked, complying.

“Just efficient. We both know you didn’t invite me over to play board games until dawn.”

“Damn, should I go store my Monopoly away?”

She kissed him, holding his face up.

“Can I revoke my rule?” she asked him.

“What rule?”

“About forgetting.”

He swallowed, his eyes darkening, and nodded once.

“Because this is the last time and I want to remember everything.”

He wanted to say it wasn’t the last time, wanted to say that just because it was over now, didn’t mean it had to be over forever. But he’d told her it would be, that after tomorrow they’d just be friends again, going their separate ways, so it wouldn’t be fair to let her hold out hope. He couldn’t tell her the fire would rekindle when they both knew the candle was burning out. She wanted it to scorch her, to burn her alive, to consume her. For the flames to lick them enticingly as it conflagrated the room, leaving only sun hot embers.

So he kissed her, burning a trail along her neck, letting the blazing heat radiate from his fingers as he drew them up her thighs.

If they burned, they were taking everything down with them.

“Veronica?”

“Yes?”

“Remember when I told you I loved you for the first time?”

“Yes,” she smiled. It had been… explosive. But she could look back on it with a smile now.

He was hovering above her, his eyes still ablaze, arms on either side of her so he wouldn’t crush her. They were both still flushed from their activities, breath short and chests expanding amply.

“I love you more now,” he breathed out. “And it’s terrifying how much I love you. But I do, and I want you to know when you go that this… it wasn’t nothing to me.”

He shifted to place his fingers on her face, beside the water pooling at the corner of her eyes, a calming touch.

“Don’t cry, Veronica. It’s okay. I love you,” he repeated, placing his forehead down on hers.

She didn’t want to say the words because it hurt too bad to say them just before she had to go. Those words were meant to be a promise, a reassurance. She didn’t want to be the kind of person who tells them, then leaves. _It doesn’t count if you run away_.

But seeing him, looking at her so earnestly, seeing him right there in her arms, giving her everything, seeing him so beautiful in the dwindling light, she felt the words hammer against her chest. _I love you, Logan, I really, really do_. She couldn’t bring herself to let it go unsaid, not completely, so she pulled him down to her, hugging his bare skin, one hand on his back and the other at the crook of his neck.

“Me too,” she whispered in his ear, closing her eyes to let her tears roll silently down her cheeks, dripping one by one onto his back. “Me too.”

They didn’t want to go to sleep, didn’t want to let the day end. Veronica wanted to brand the sight of Logan like that, smiling at her, sheets loosely covering him, into her eyelids. Give her a reason to close her eyes, instead of fighting to keep them open to peer at him under the weak moonlight. If she went to sleep now, then soon she wouldn’t be leaving tomorrow, she’d be leaving _today_. That meant goodbye, that meant hitting the road, that meant pushing away all thoughts of Logan away from her mind as she focused on the road to drive her dad and her back to Neptune. That meant leaving Logan’s bed, stopping being his girlfriend and becoming his friend again. Did it mean he would be her ex-boyfriend? That sounded so rough, so hard, so final. It didn’t fit Logan, didn’t fit the heat in her chest and the waves of pleasure in her body he’d given her all evening. It didn’t fit the way their hands were intertwined against his chest, his tousled hair, the necklace shining on her skin, their ankles, piled on each other. It didn’t fit the way he kissed her, seemingly with his whole body, encompassing her whole, her mind spinning away as his feverish lips claimed her as his own. There was nothing ex about this, nothing past, nothing that said it would end in a few hours. But it had to. It had to, and she hated it, and she didn’t want to start crying again, but her fingers were desperate at Logan’s shoulders. She hoped it wouldn’t leave a bruise because he already had too many on his back, but at the same time she did, a reminder that she had been there, one mark from someone who loved him. Someone who wanted to stay with him, but had to go. Who had to hurt him, just because he had dared love her. Someone who never ever wanted to cause him harm, who foolishly thought maybe if she carried over some of the pain into their skins it would ebb away from their souls.

She had to sleep. He had to sleep. She closed her eyes against his shoulder, breathing in his scent. She knew there was likely a small bruise on her left thigh from how he’d gripped her earlier, and she focused on that, the physical reminder that she had been loved that would still be there days from now, to lose herself to sleep. She let her mind go, surrendering.

The next morning, she woke up before Logan. Morning light was filtering through the blinds, and she didn’t even remember they’d taken care of the blinds. She looked over at Logan, whose back faced her. They had apparently moved through the night, because she distinctly remembered falling asleep against his chest. He looked so peaceful, shoulders rising regularly and a small audible huff punctuating every exhale.

She glanced at the time on his bedside table. It wasn’t even 7 yet. Veronica crept out of bed, silently, and reached her bag on the floor, then started digging in it. She extracted a folded page, then walked silently back to the bed and set it down beside the alarm clock. He could read it when she was gone. It was all the things she wanted to say that she didn’t have the strength to say, all the things she wanted to reiterate. She knew three little words were missing, but she couldn’t do that to him. She wasn’t as eloquent as Logan was, or as imaginative in her words, but she had meant everything and wanted to leave him something tangible. More than memories and whispered confessions.

“V’ron’ca?” he mumbled from the bed, his eyes still closed as he reached over the side where she’d been sleeping, now deserted.

She slipped back inside and hugged his back. “I’m here. Go back to sleep.”

“I can’t. It’s today.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “It’s today.”

She pulled back slightly, looking at all the scars and marks along his back, and she dropped her mouth to the warm skin, delicately.

 _Here, these kisses are all the tenderness your father should have given you_ , she thought, running her lips along his back. _Here, these caresses are all the hugs your mother should have given you instead of drinking to ignore_ , she added mentally, stroking his arms. She pressed a feverish kiss on his shoulder. _And that’s from me. Because I love you._

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

Now that he was looking at her, now that she had swung her bag inside her car, now that she was about to leave, she didn’t know what to say anymore. _I’m not good with words_.

She took a deep breath and the step separating them, and pressed her lips to his. _This is the last time this is the last time this is the last time_.

His hands were soothing on her cheeks, his warmth radiating all over her making her feel safe. _Why do I have to walk away?_

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Logan said, pulling her to his chest for a hug.

 _A hug is dangerous, Logan. I might never let go_.

“Couldn’t be one if I tried,” she said lightly.

He nodded against her hair, kissing the top of her head. Then she pulled away, every square inch of her that she peeled away from him screaming in agony. He kissed her forehead, and there was everything in that kiss. All the words they’d exchanged, all the memories they’d made, all the minutes they’d spent together.

_Just a last one. A last one, and then I go._

She kissed his lips, quickly. Couldn’t let herself be tempted to stay too long.

“Have a safe trip.”

“You too, when you make it.”

He nodded, smiled at her. She smiled back, and then she couldn’t stop smiling, because she loved him and she knew, she felt it deep inside her, that the memories were there to stay. He’d given her the time and the attention, given her the most beautiful summer she could have hoped for. And so she smiled for that, for the days in the field and the laughs on the beach, for the ice creams and the only camera flashes that didn’t put him on edge. For her tears on his shirt and his hands under hers, for the trips to the mall and the misunderstandings. For restoring her faith in people, or maybe in just one person, for making her trust again, for loving her even if he didn’t have to.

She smiled so she wouldn’t cry, started laughing when it failed, overcome by all the joy of the summer.

She got into her car and drove away, looking at his retreating figure in her rearview mirror, also shaken by silent laughter, following her car with watery eyes.

When her father asked her if she had enjoyed her summer in Clatham Cove over lobster rolls, she said yes. When she got to the highway, leaving the small town behind, she decided to keep smiling. Smile for what had been.

She’d always have the memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this chapter was kind of sad, I'm sorry. All that's left after this is a teensy epilogue, that I'll post on Monday.  
> I'm aware this ending is probably not what we would like to see happen, but after discussing it at length with my sister, she convinced me that this was the only ending that made sense. (And anyway, it's not as bad as the season 4 ending, so I feel fairly safe with that.)


	13. Chapter 13

**Epilogue**

**_Do you remember?_ **

“You have to tell me _everything_ ,” Lilly exclaimed when Veronica pulled up in the Kanes’ driveway, barely out of her car. “Your texts were _mouth-watering_ , but now I want the whole meal!”

Veronica laughed. “So, Logan and I dated.”

“No shit,” Lilly said with an eyeroll. “Now tell me something I _couldn’t_ see coming a mile away.”

Veronica wasn’t sure exactly how much she wanted to tell, and how much she wanted to keep locked away, especially since Lilly had apparently already known her and Logan had something special, and had kissed him anyway when she was over. So she started little by little, sharing small detail after small detail, making her way through the two months since she’d last seen Lilly.

“Damn, you’re never getting back together with Duncan after _that_ ,” Lilly noted, licking her spoon clean of the ice cream clinging to it.

“I wasn’t going to before, either,” Veronica replied. “But now I definitely know that what I had with Duncan doesn’t compare.”

“So, are you two, like, over now or something?”

“Yeah, or something,” Veronica exhaled, peering down at the carton of Rocky Road between the two of them.

**_V. Mars, 3:13PM:_ ** _Guess what ice cream I’m eating_

**_L. Echolls, 3:15PM:_ ** _Is this a trap?_

**_L. Echolls, 3:15PM:_ ** _I know it’s been a week, but I didn’t already forget you won’t eat anything other than caramel_

**_V. Mars, 3:16PM:_ ** _First strike. Care to try again?_

**_L. Echolls, 3:17PM:_ ** _Buttered pecan_

**_L. Echolls, 3:18PM:_ ** _Lemon_

**_L. Echolls, 3:18PM:_ ** _Mint chocolate chip_

**_L. Echolls, 3:18PM:_ ** _Cookies and creme_

**_L. Echolls, 3:19PM:_ ** _Am I getting closer?_

**_V. Mars, 3:20PM:_ ** _There is no such thing, either you have it or you don’t_

**_L. Echolls, 3:21PM:_ ** _Give me a hint_

**_V. Mars, 3:21PM:_ ** _Think Clatham Cove_

**_L. Echolls, 3:22PM:_ ** _Rocky Road?_

**_V. Mars, 3:23PM:_ ** _Yep_

**_L. Echolls, 3:21PM:_ ** _I thought you hated it_

**_V. Mars, 3:22PM:_ ** _Guess it grew on me…_

Veronica looked down at the pendant between her fingers. That annoying boy pestering her to know her name sure had grown on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did promise the epilogue would be tiny, hopefully this wasn't too tiny.
> 
> And it brings us to the end of this story! It's going to be strange now that I've gotten used to posting this story regularly to move on to something else. I am so incredibly thankful to everyone who has read, left kudos, and commented on the story throughout this month. I am baffled by the love that I've gotten, and I appreciate every comment I have received more than you know. So thank you!!
> 
> I guess this is as good a place as any to say that I am currently working on a sequel to this fic, I've already started writing it and I think I should start posting it sometime in January or February. Nothing is set in stone, but while the reason I started writing it was entirely self-indulgence and the inability to let go of this AU, I've gotten questions about that in the last chapters, so there it is! That's my answer. These versions of the characters have more to tell me, and I keep listening.  
> I'll also be posting something for the leadup to Christmas, starting tomorrow, so if you're sick of me for my frequent posting throughout the month - I'm sorry. I'm really not done bothering you.
> 
> And finally I'm sorry for constantly apologizing, but I'm Canadian and can't help it.
> 
> Thank you for reading this summer story in November and coming on this journey with me!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Summer Awakening](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27698615) by [MaiadaughterofAtlas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaiadaughterofAtlas/pseuds/MaiadaughterofAtlas)




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